


Revenant

by CinnamonDjinn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Druid Keith (Voltron), F/M, Getting Together, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, M/M, No ableism from others though, Psychological Horror, Rating May Change, Shiro (Voltron) Has One Arm, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shiro (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Team Bonding, additional content for season 7, of the acute kind, self-ableism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-02-13 17:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21498064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnamonDjinn/pseuds/CinnamonDjinn
Summary: In the midst of a destructive galactic war, there just never seemed enough time to process anything that happened. And if the paladins couldn't find a calm moment to work through all of the horrid things they'd seen thus far, then Keith certainly couldn't find it in himself to resent Shiro for pulling away from it all, even if it meant from him too. Or at least that's what he'd forced himself to think; better to blame spirit entrapment and brainwashed clones rather than consider that maybe the fight at the clone facility had irreparably damaged something between them.Turns out, that's the least of the Black Paladin's concerns. Shadows loom and pulse in the peripheral of his vision, Lovecraftian-like nightmares keep him from sleep, and he swears that sometimes when he's alone in the quiet of space, he can hear ... something … in the distance. Keith doesn't want to admit it to himself let alone anyone else that his imagination is out of control, that he might finally be cracking under the pressure of war and leadership, but when he can suddenly feel a pulse in the air, a pulse that beckons him, he gets to thinking that, maybe, it's not his imagination after all.Things left unsaid often have dire consequences.
Relationships: Allura & Keith (Voltron), Allura/Lance (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Romelle (Voltron), Keith & Voltron Paladins, Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Shiro & Voltron Paladins
Comments: 124
Kudos: 159





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not going back to rewatch Voltron anytime soon, especially season 7 and 8, so things might be off from the episodes. But you know what, this whole thing is off canon anyway, so call it creative liberties and let's move on. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Not gonna start a rant here; just going to say I'm going to try and hit many of the things I felt were left out from the show. We'll grade how I do by the end. 
> 
> TW and rating subject to change. Please let me know if I miss any tags; I'm still getting used to publishing on Ao3 : )
> 
> I'm really excited to bring this story to life and see it through to the end. It would be my first time completing a multi-chapter fic, so here goes. I hope you enjoy it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates:  
Mar 31st 2020 - minor grammar/phrasing/spelling fixes

It had started with a flash of light.

The paladins, Coran, Romelle, his mother, all encased in a magenta luminescence, him having escaped only thanks to a little of his intuition and a lot because of the teleporting space wolf. Though “escape” probably was a poor choice of words – Keith had had only a moment of reprieve before the druid Macidus was on him like a demon after fresh blood.

Their blades clanged loudly throughout the caverns, echoing down the adjoining pathways. Though the time Keith had spent on the space whale growing to accept Krolia as his mom (and through that learning to accept himself) had instilled a peace in the raging firestorm that had been his soul, it threatened to roar back to life every brief moment he remembered that the weapon the druid wielded had belonged to a fallen Blade. He turned that anger into determination, into a promise that he wouldn't fall, wouldn't fail in this battle. But promising it and actually making it happen were two entirely different things; promising wouldn't keep his shoulders from being relieved of his head if he didn't keep one step ahead of the druid.

Keith slashed; Macidus parried. Macidus teleported; Keith only dodged enough to make the cut delivered to his side glancing instead of fatal. The Blade was tiring down; it had seemed that ever since returning from the quintessence void, their entourage just had problem after problem to deal with, never giving them a chance to recover as they continued to slowly press forward toward Earth. In contrast, he guessed that Macidus had just been sitting around, well-rested and idly waiting until another Blade would respond to the signal and fall victim to his trap.

The spark of renewed anger invigorated him, pushing him briefly into the offense, enough to deliver a sharp kick to the galra's torso. The druid stumbled back but teleported before Keith could follow through with a blow from his bayard.

Macidus's chuckle echoed ominously around him. “Don't you think it's time for you to give in, Paladin? Time to lay down with the rest of the bones? Your blade will make a nice addition to my wall...”

The growl that was Keith's response was just this side of inhuman. He wildly spun around, unsure of what angle Macidus might attack from next. “Quit bantering! Get out here and fight!”

The chuckle turned into a sharp cackle. “Even now, you still pretend like there's a chance? It will be a treat to bring your corpse to the High Priestess herself.”

This time, he couldn't blame the space wolf, who lay wounded and inert on the other side of the room. This time, it was more than just intuition; it was like he _felt _something shift beside him. Keith immediately pivoted in time to block the incoming attack from behind with his own sword. He didn't have a second more to fathom what it was or why it had worked; the surprise in Macidus's eyes only lasted a brief moment before the creature hissed and swiped again.

Suddenly it was clear what Keith needed to do – he just needed the opportunity.

It came while he barely stumbled ahead of a trailing beam of violent fuchsia lightning that the druid released in a steady stream. The paladins, somehow freed from their entrapment, were rushing down the ramp at the cavern chamber's entrance to his aid. It was the spare moment of breath that Lance's and Hunk's barrage of shots provided, that stalled Macidus long enough for Keith to feel for that warping of air as his enemy disappeared from sight.

Of course it was stupidly risky, but it just wouldn't have been him otherwise, peace-from-self-acceptance-via-space-whale be damned. He knew he could never move fast enough to intersect in time, so instead he threw his blade toward that distortion.

It soundly lodged itself into Macidus's sternum the tick he reappeared.

The sorcerer seemed shocked at his eminent demise, and even furious as Keith wasted no time rushing forward to grab the sword's handle, tugging it out and swiping up to deliver the final blow. The lizard-like galra howled, in pain or in anger or perhaps both, as the wounds Keith had inflicted glowed vibrantly blue; ticks later they erupted in an explosion of light that sent the Black Paladin sprawling across the floor like a skipped stone.

When Keith opened his eyes and pushed his chest off the floor to survey his surroundings, he saw motes of blue light floating in the air. The cerulean glow that encased him gently faded as the wisps of light diminished into nothing all at once. He breathed a sigh of relief even as his shaking arms threatened to give out, watching his fellow paladins finish their descent down the ramp with Shiro, Romelle, Coran, and Krolia close behind. Nearby, the wolf stirred, still injured but not fatally so.

Even as exhausted as he was, Keith couldn't help but give a small grin, thinking that maybe now, everything was going to be okay.

It had started with a flash of light.

* * *

For once the paladins and crew didn't rush to continue their trek to Earth, and although Allura could sympathize with just how eager her friends were to return home, she sensed that even they appreciated the delay. Perhaps with the constant danger they had all grown resilient and thus a bit numb to the risks they faced at every turn, but the battle against Macidus had been a stark reminder. The ice-cold chill of reality bit even deeper when they finally witnessed all of the lightless Marmora swords embedded in the wall. Each had once belonged to a formidable opponent, and each had fallen in battle. The Blades had effectively been eradicated by the druids and it was unknown whether there were more of the monsters still lurking in the shadows.

The Voltron team might have just been recently captured thanks to Ezor and Zethrid, but at least they had been together and mobile at that, even if their wrists had been bound. But with Macidus, they had been rendered completely defenseless to the point that the others hadn't even been aware of their surroundings. The altean princess knew it had only been sheer luck that she could control her alchemy in a way that not only kept her cognizant of their predicament, but also capable of disarming the trap.

Allura's eyes narrowed in frustration. Even now she was such a novice with her skills. Skills that could make the difference between life and death, yet she had such a weak grasp upon them. The Blue Paladin knew that at this rate, one day her luck was going to run out and her flimsy control wouldn't come through when they needed it most; then someone on the team would pay the price for her weakness. Even this time alone, they were all lucky that Keith had narrowly avoided getting caught as well.

And Keith... Allura swallowed uncomfortably as she watched Krolia and her son tend to Kolivan, the Blade leader having almost been completely bled dry by Macidus. She crossed her arms in thought as the three quickly caught one another up on what had transpired in Voltron's absence.

It was thanks to Keith that Macidus had abandoned the rest of the team long enough for her to work her alchemy in peace. Allura had little confidence that she would have wielded the speed or the concentration necessary to release them all while under Macidus's watchful eye. And as thanks in return, Keith had come uncomfortably close to death, the space wolf the only companion to help him hold off the druid. He had practically collapsed at the end of their battle, the scattered wounds that covered him only just starting to congeal. Even now, she watched as his arms shook from exhaustion as he wrapped Kolivan's wounds. It was a blunt and worrying reminder of how close they might have just come to losing him.

Allura might have held the highest status of court in their party, but Keith was her team leader and more so than that her friend. She might have moved Shiro's essence to the clone's body, but it was Keith who had dared to rescue the clone in the first place, charging off into the unknown by himself, understanding that it had likely been their only chance. Even after he had departed the team feeling as though he held no place among the paladins, Keith had returned without hesitation when he knew he needed to and fought alongside them as if he had never left. He had immediately volunteered himself to battle alongside Axca on Ezor and Zethrid's ship, buying the team precious time to escape. And the assault on Zarkon, how he immediately offered himself as the replacement when Thace was unresponsive...

She had never considered before how much the team relied on him over and over, his capability as a fighter outmatching everyone except perhaps Shiro on a good day. It was a worrying realization that maybe she and the others had been taking his exceptional skills in battle for granted. What was going to happen the day he finally stumbled and none of the team were capable of catching him?

Allura remembered Coran's words the day they had met the unlikely paladins: he had said to have faith in them, but now she found that faith slipping, not because of disappointment this time, but in fear of her friends' safety, of how the stakes kept seeming to rise each quintant. Today had been proof of it.

“Allura?”

The Blue Paladin started, her eyes snapping away from the spot she had been staring at, not realizing that Keith had stood from his crouch and had turned to her. His expression was one of concern. “You okay?”

Caught off guard, she collected herself with a smile, hoping to put him at ease. “I'm fine, thank you for asking. Are you?”

“Yeah.” He paused for a brief moment, gathering his words. “Krolia told me what you did, how you helped everyone escape. Thank you.”

She flushed and looked away, her expression falling. It was as if he had read her own thoughts. Maybe she was more transparent than she realized. “It wasn't enough; I should have done something sooner.”

To her surprise, Keith just huffed a smile, gently placing a hand of her bicep where she could feel it and giving it a reassuring squeeze. It admittedly brought her some comfort, if only a little. “Allura, I'm just glad you can even _do_ alchemy in the first place. We'd have been screwed if you couldn't. _I'd _have been screwed if you couldn't. Besides,” he chuckled softly, “it's not like anyone ever gave you a manual on how to do this stuff. I mean it when I say how much I appreciate you looking out for the others... for my mom.” His face fell solemnly as if he too was reminded of just how close they had come, of the Blades that had been lost. His hand slipped from her arm. “Just... thank you for keeping them safe.”

She bit her lower lip as she watched Keith turn away to say farewell to Krolia and Kolivan, feeling a bittersweet pull in her heart as mother and son solemnly embraced. It was just another way that she and the Black Paladin were similar: having to bear the feeling of family fighting in a war where they might never return (and in her case they didn't). The princess couldn't fault him in the least for how he stood there staring longingly after the galran woman as she left, only finally turning away when Shiro quietly reminded him that it was time to leave.

Allura looked down at her palm, at the hand she had used to counteract Macidus's spell. She would get better, she thought, squeezing her hand into a fist. She had to, before their luck ran out.

She just needed to figure out how.

* * *

Fatigued and sore as all hell, Keith rolled his left shoulder as he stood up, having just finished helping Hunk and Lance pack up the rest of the salvaged supplies into the Yellow Lion. At least there had been _one_ benefit out of this whole endeavor; there had been plenty of packaged water, rations and energy capsules for their tools available.

No reason to leave them behind when no one else was alive on the planet to use them. What a cheerful thought.

Of course, rescuing Kolivan was also a win, but right now it just didn't feel like it to Keith. Yes Kolivan was saved – Keith would have been more than distraught if they had lost him too - his mentor in a league that had slowly become like a second family - but that discovery had come with the knowledge that the Blades of Marmora were destroyed; that he, Kolivan and Krolia might be the only ones left. That thought brought him back to every moment before when they had lost someone: Ulaz, Antok, Thace, Regris, countless others... The Blades had given everything and in the end it seemed like the only thing they each had earned was death, not knowledge.

Keith swallowed hard, shaking his head as he walked down Yellow's ramp toward Black. No, he couldn't let himself think those thoughts. It would only lead him on a downward spiral to nowhere good. Plus the last thing the Black Paladin needed were distractions when so many lives were counting on him.

Black's ramp lowered just as he neared the Lion, as expected. What he didn't expect was Shiro on the other side, a small bag held by his remaining hand over his good shoulder. He seemed equally surprised to see Keith - an odd thought considering it was Keith's Lion he was exiting. By the look and size of the bag, Keith guessed that it wasn't more supplies.

“Shiro?” He questioned softly at the sight of the Garrison pilot, not moving from his spot at the bottom of the ramp. “Where are you going?” He had tried not to make the question sound interrogating, but he must have failed given the guilty frown that suddenly made itself known on Shiro's face.

The older man didn't meet Keith's eyes as he descended the ramp. “I'm... going to ride with Pidge for a while. Just need some space from the Black Lion for a bit and I don't want Pidge to ride alone. That's okay, right?”

Keith hadn't heard Shiro sound any sort of defensive since he and Adam had last argued about the Kerberos mission. It caught him completely offguard, never once having heard that sound directed at himself, even from the clone. That, combined with the exhausted, melancholic expression the prior Black Paladin wore had Keith stumbling for words.

“Ah – yeah, o-of course.” Catching himself, he continued more succinctly, “anything you need. Is everything okay?”

The question seemed to stun Shiro whose visage thawed into a grateful look of relief, the corner of his lips rising ever so slightly. He finally met the younger man's gaze, his voice softer this time. “Yeah, thanks Keith.” Without another word, Shiro continued past, eyes set firmly on Green. Keith watched him briefly before turning to the space wolf who had padded up to him, a bag of supplies in the grip of its jaws.

“Glad to see you're doing better, buddy,” Keith smiled softly while ruffling the fur on the wolf's head who blinked its eyes slowly in response. “Guess it's just you and me again.” The telelupus whined quietly as if confused before gently bumping its head against Keith's hip and heading into the Black Lion on its own.

It was fine, he told himself. It was healthy, for both him and Shiro. The other man had been through so much, from fighting for his life in the arena at the cost of others', to dying at the hands of Zarkon, to having his soul entrapped within the infinite, lonesome void of the Black Lion, to learning that his so-called friends had effectively replaced him with a clone without even realizing it wasn't the real him, leaving their previous leader desperately calling out to them only for his warnings to go unheard. Yeah, Keith thought, closing his eyes, grimacing; Shiro had enough on his plate to deal with and Keith hadn't been doing much to alleviate that. Not that he would even know what to say; he had never been good at that sort of thing. He really couldn't blame Shiro for switching.

Besides, the last thing either of them needed was for Keith to become codependant on his friend at this stage of the game, not when the team was relying on him so much. It was just hard not to constantly think of the other man after everything they had just been through. Keith had lost him so many times, and came so close to losing him again, and every single time he couldn't figure out what to do with the feelings that amassed, what they even were or how to handle them.

It really was for the best. Shiro needed time and Keith needed to keep his head on straight, to focus solely on being the leader his team needed him to be. There would be time afterward to sort out the rest.

Still, he couldn't stop himself from looking one last time at the Green Lion as its ramp closed behind his longtime friend, sighing before heading up Black's own ramp alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come help me support other content creators on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Omnidolor), or to chat about fandom or writing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates:  
Apr 4th 2020 - minor grammar/phrasing fixes

“So let me get this straight. Your planet has these little creatures called 'jellyfish', and wearing them over your head keeps toxins from entering your bodies?”

  
  


“No!” Lance chuckled, shaking his head before turning thoughtful. “Actually, if you wore one of Earth's jellyfish, the complete opposite would happen. Anyway, I just meant that they only looked like the jellyfish from our planet. I have no idea what they were actually called.”

  
  


“Alright...” Romelle muttered unconvinced, tilting her head and giving him a confused look from her position against the console in Red's cockpit. “And how was it possible for bubbles to allow you to breathe air? How big were these bubbles exactly? Wouldn't they eventually run out?”

  
  


“Do I look like a scientist? Hunk would know better than me.”

  
  


“Um,” came Hunk's response through the vidscreen that was connected to the Yellow Lion, raising his hand. “To be fair, I was mind controlled most of the time. And by the time everything had calmed down the castle had arrived so we never got the chance to really talk more with the mer.”

  
  


“So what you are saying is,” she rubbed her forehead, “you just trusted that these underwater creatures, on a completely frozen planet with no viable land masses and who had never been space-faring, gave you magic that supposedly worked for air-breathing creatures despite likely never having been tested on a land creature and _definitely_ never having been tested on a human?”

  
  


“Ummmm,” the two boys looked at each other before looking back. Then Hunk cleared his throat.

  
  


“Well, to be fair, Lance was the one who was all for trusting them from the get-go. Most likely because they were pretty.”

  
  


Lance's head couldn't have whipped around to face his friend any faster without risk of spinal damage. “HUNK!” he called out, flabbergasted.

  
  


“What? It's true! I was all for staying put in the Lions!”

  
  


“We had no idea how long we were gonna be stuck there! And besides if we hadn't, they'd still be mind-controlled and sacrificing one another to a big-ole, nasty sea worm!”

  
  


“I'm not saying it was the wrong decision! I'm just saying that maaaaaaybe your initial intentions weren't exactly altruistic.”

  
  


“Hunk. Buddy. Pal.” Lance placed a gloved hand over his heart, eyes solemnly closed. “You wound me. It was nothing of the sort. They needed help, and as a Voltron Paladin it's 'our duty to be ambassadors to other lifeforms'.”

  
  


“Oh sure, _now_ you quote the Voltron guidebook.”

  
  


“Wait, there's a guidebook?”

  
  


“So then,” Romelle cut in, her expression carefully guarded. “You _didn't_ think they were good-looking?”

  
  


Lance shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, I mean, yeah, they were objectively hot. You gotta understand, Romi, where Hunk and I come from, mermaids are the stuff of legends! What any human would give to meet one...”

  
  


“Yeah,” Hunk dryly added, “except in most folklore aren't they usually drowning people?”

  
  


“That's beside the point. Anyway, Romelle, I don't know your type, but I bet even you would have found them beautiful.” The Red Paladin sighed dreamily. “The long, flowing hair, the smooth and glittering scales, their lithe bodies moving so gracefully through the water...”

  
  


“Ugh,” his long-time friend winced, bringing a hand to his forehead.

  
  


Lance's gushing didn't faze Romelle in the slightest; instead a deviously-coy grin eased its way across her face as she leaned in for the planned kill. “Soooo, you're saying that they're even more beautiful than, say, Allura?”

  
  


“Wh-wh-what! Wh- I mean – No!” stuttered the marksman, practically flailing in his seat in flustered surprise. “I mean – of course Allura's more beautiful! Nothing's more beautiful than her!” Realizing what he had just let slip, Lance began desperately backtracking, his stuttering only seeming to worsen with each spoken word. “Wait – that didn't come out right – I meant, there's just no one like her – to compare to I mean! She's graceful and strong and in a league of her own and - it's, it's apples and oranges!”

  
  


She didn't know what an apple nor an orange were but that mattered little; she leaned back, basking in her mission's success as she took in the sniper's vibrantly flushed face. Initially, the altean woman hadn't been sure of what to expect when she had left the colony with Keith, Krolia and the telelupus to expose Lotor's horrific crimes to the paladins. However as the days passed by, she felt as if she was slowly finding her place among them. In many ways they each fondly reminded her of her brother, Bandor. With Lance in particular, she found herself falling back into her older-sister-teasing ways. And the Red Paladin had previously mentioned that he had several older siblings back home; she idly wondered (and a bit hoped) that maybe it would in some way provide him a small sense of familiarity and thus some comfort. And Hunk overall was just a humbly wholesome person. He seemed much more in touch with his emotions than the others, a steady, grounded rock fitting to what the Yellow Lion represented. She sometimes found herself leaning on him like she had with Bandor after they had lost their mother.

  
  


Even with all of the terrible things that had happened and were still happening, she found herself more grateful than ever for having met them all.

  
  


“So,” she interjected, saving Lance from his floundering. “Where were the others during all of this?”

  
  


“Well,” began Hunk, idly rubbing his chin as he thought back, “apparently the castle got stuck in a reverse time loop that caused Coran to rapidly de-age and the mice to turn into different creatures-”

  
  


“What.”

  
  


“I swear I'm not making this up. So yeah, the systems weren't responding to anything they tried so the only way they could get out was by locking onto one of the lions. And you know how I mentioned the rest of us got scattered? Well, Pidge ended up in this junk heap nebula - that's where all of those floating space caterpillars she has came from - and thank goodness she's so smart because she was able to turn the random trash into a tracking beacon that the castle could lock onto.” Hunk grimaced a little, the enthusiasm he had had when praising his emerald peer diminishing a bit. “It sounded like in the nick of time, too; Allura said that Coran wouldn't have likely existed anymore if the castle had gone through the warphole one more time.”

  
  


“Yeah,” added Lance, the memory sobering him. “Come to think of it, you and I and Pidge got out lucky on that whole ordeal. We didn't have it as bad as the castle or Shiro and Keith.”

  
  


Romelle's eyes widened in concern. “What happened to them?”

  
  


“Well,” the Red Paladin continued, “Shiro had gotten badly wounded in the battle against Zarkon. Apparently he went head to head with Haggar at one point and she left him with a poisoned magic wound in his side for his troubles. Even then he still managed to save Keith from getting taken out by Zarkon after the dude walloped on him during their fight.”

  
  


“Keith _fought_ Zarkon?!”

  
  


Lance raised an unimpressed brow. “You mean did Keith jump into battle by himself with little hope of winning? Yeah, he does that.” He shrugged like he had just stated that it was a Tuesday. “Rash is like, his middle name.”

  
  


“He did it to keep Zarkon away from Black,” Hunk reminded him.

  
  


“That too, but don't pretend he wasn't also trying to 'end things now', which is like, his second middle name.”

  
  


Romelle furrowed her brow, crossing her arms in the process. “What in the name of the Spirits was that hand gesture you did just now?”

  
  


“Air quotes. Anyway, the two apparently got spitted out on this completely barren planet. From the sound of it, both Lions were out of commission and also really far away from one another. And then, as if the wound wasn't enough, Shiro got attacked by these giant sabretooth lizard things and was too injured to hold them off, I guess. So naturally, Keith jumped in to save him; that's also his thing.”

  
  


“Keith 'Rash End-Things-Now Saving-Shiro' Kogane is quite a mouth full,” the Yellow Paladin remarked.

  
  


“Quite,” Lance deadpanned, then continued more pensively, leaning lazily onto his elbow on the chair's arm rest. “Now that I think on it, it was technically the first time we learned that it was possible for us to pilot the other Lions - though in this case, I don't think it was because Black necessarily thought Keith to be her pilot, just that he wanted to protect Shiro which she probably wanted as well considering she saved his life later on.”

  
  


“They didn't say much else about what happened after we rescued them,” Hunk continued for Lance, rubbing at the fingers of one of his gloves. “They were the last to be picked up and by that point Shiro really wasn't doing too well. We had to get him into a healing pod almost immediately. And then he had these dreams where he remembered someone had helped him escape from the Galra and then after that Zarkon was suddenly hunting us down nonstop so we never got much of any downtime. Plus you probably know how tight-lipped Keith is about things.”

  
  


Romelle idly ran her fingers through one of her pigtails. “Keith spoke about Shiro a bit on our flight to convene with you all,” she replied before leaning back on her palms and crossing her legs. “He spoke highly of you all-”

  
  


“He did?” Lance interjected, sitting up straight in his seat.

  
  


“Awwwwww,” Hunk smiled.

  
  


“-but it seemed it was Shiro he was most fond of.”

  
  


“Yeah, they have a long history together from the Galaxy Garrison,” Lance confirmed. He then paused, considering, “But come to think of it, they started acting a lot closer ever since they came back from that place together.”

  
  


“Which makes me wonder...” Hunk started, the cut himself off with a fist pressed to his mouth as if he realized he shouldn't continue.

  
  


“Makes you wonder what, Hunk?” Romelle prodded, leaning forward.

  
  


“Well... Shiro's riding with Pidge now.”

  
  


“Yeah? And?” questioned Lance.

  
  


“I don't mean to gossip, but it just... seems odd to me, after all they have been through, especially recently.”

  
  


“Maybe Keith just needed some lone-wolf time, you know how he is,” the marksman suggested even though he didn't seem too confidant in his answer. “Or maybe Shiro doesn't feel comfortable in Black after, you know, being trapped for phoebs on end in her.”

  
  


“Maybe...” Hunk trailed off as he looked out the side viewport of his Lion. “All I know is that, Lance, you're my best friend, and if you flew through an unknown wormhole into Galran Empire territory to drag my brainwashed self back to the castle, well... I guess moving to be further away from someone I care about just probably isn't what I would have done.” He shook his head, looking back to the other two. “But I've never had my dead soul held captive in a Lion's mindscape, so what do I know?”

  
  


Romelle knew. If it had been Bandor, she knew for a fact she wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else than by his side.

  
  


Lance looked to the blonde altean, his expression one of grim concern. “You haven't spoken to Keith about it, have you?”

  
  


She shook her head. “No. Though now that you mentioned it, he did seem a bit out of sorts when we last spoke. We were chatting earlier today but he cut it short saying he wasn't feeling well.”

  
  


_The conversation had flown easily between them as it always had every since they had departed the colony. Maybe it was because Romelle had been so lonely after her brother's departure and that Keith had been intimately familiar with the feeling. Either way, they had certainly become close; he was almost like another brother to her. He wasn't a replacement for Bandor, that she knew, but she could certainly find it in her heart to make a space for the young Blade. Him and Krolia, who treated her as if she were a blood relative despite barely knowing her._

  
  


“_I'm surprised you picked Lance of all people,” Keith had quipped, his face passively neutral save for a raised eyebrow._

  
  


“_He's not that bad, Keith,” she had smirked in response._

  
  


“_You haven't given him a chance to whine yet.”_

  
  


_She'd snickered. “Oh trust me, he's had plenty.” Then she'd grinned. “Maybe it doesn't bother me because I got used to you.”_

  
  


“_Me?!” He had scoffed, indignance painted clear upon his face. “Since when do I complain?”_

  
  


“_Besides right now?”_

  
  


“_Besides right now!”_

  
  


_That time she had outright laughed. “I'm just kidding. It's funny that not much riles you up except for a few things, and he is one of them.”_

  
  


“_Ugh,” he'd rolled his eyes. “Lance is fine. He's just loud. And he has this weird competitive streak with me that I just don't get.”_

  
  


“_That's because you're an only child.”_

  
  


“_Is that what this is?”_

  
  


“_Most likely,” she'd responded honestly. “It sounds like he has a lot of siblings, most of them older. He must feel like he can't do enough to stand out among them. And with you being such a noticeable person when you're in your element, maybe he felt that as your rival he'd be noticeable too.”_

  
  


“_Ugh,” Keith had groaned, sitting back in his chair. “He should realize he doesn't need to try so hard. He's got a lot going for him already.”_

  
  


_She'd cocked a brow and a smirk. “Maybe you should tell him that.”_

  
  


_Having expected a quip in return, she had been surprised when he'd instead responded with a thoughtful tone. “Yeah, you're probably right. I'll try to make a point to do so sometime soon.”_

  
  


_Romelle's smirk had settled into an endeared smile. “Back to your question, I'm just looking to get to know everyone a bit better. I spent a lot of time with Allura and Coran and for that I'm grateful, but I've never really spent a lot of time off the colony before. And each of you have such intriguing stories and personalities.” Her smile had softened then. She'd turned to look out of Red's view port to the distant stars. “I can see why you are all such a tightly knit group.”_

  
  


_He'd said nothing for a moment as if further considering her words. “I suppose. You can be just as much a part of this too, Romelle.”_

  
  


“_I know. I feel like I'm already starting to be.”_

  
  


_They had continued chatting about various random subjects so as to pass the time: from friends that she had had on the colony to what each of them would do after the war was over, if it ever was. However, it was when she had been in the middle of telling him about the time she had caught Bandor drinking nunvill and had tried to help hide him and his friends from their parents when she'd noticed that Keith was grimacing._

  
  


“_Keith, are you alright?”_

  
  


“_Yeah,” he'd muttered, shaking his head as if to dispel whatever it was that was troubling him. “Sorry, got a sort of ringing in my ears all of a sudden. Keep going; I'm listening.”_

  
  


_She'd nodded and continued on, speaking about the lie she had told her father regarding where all of the nunvill had gone all the while Bandor had been hung-over. It had only taken a few more dobashes of story-telling before she'd become relatively certain that Keith hadn't been listening at all._

  
  


“_Keith...”_

  
  


“_Wha- Ah, sorry Romelle.” He'd rubbed a gloved hand over his face. “Just... feels like I've got a headache now, too.”_

  
  


“_Maybe you need some water?” She'd suggested. What irony that they had been in the middle of a story featuring the exact same symptoms. She would have jokingly pointed it out if not for her concern at the time._

  
  


“_I... yeah. Yeah, you're probably right. Or maybe I'm just tired.” He'd looked at her, his eyes seemingly a bit glazed. “I'm sorry, Romelle. I'll talk to you later.”_

  
  


“_Of course,” she'd responded, biting at her lip as he'd closed the comm channel._

  
  


Lance looked to Hunk. “I thought Keith didn't _get_ sick.”

  
  


The Yellow Paladin shook his head in return, his brow furrowed. “Neither did I. You know... out of all of us, Keith's the only one of us that doesn't have someone riding with them.”

  
  


“_You_ don't have anyone riding with you,” Lance reminded him.

  
  


“Yeah, but I have no problem messaging you guys when I'm bored. Plus I've got the mice.”

  
  


“Kosmo is riding with Keith,” Romelle pointed out, though she didn't disagree to what Hunk was getting at.

  
  


“True,” the other acquiesced, rubbing his thumb against his fore finger, “Keith's always had a way with animals. He's like, one with nature and stuff.” Hunk then paused, frowning. “But I think at the end of the day, humans have social needs and animal companions aren't really a replacement for human interaction.

  
  


“And it's people that he struggles with.”

* * *

In order to keep the group's morale up during the painfully sluggish trek through space, Coran had decided to start organizing team hangout sessions scheduled for every third cycle. It wasn't feasible for everyone to meet within a single Lion so that unfortunately meant no Monsters and Mana (especially since they no longer had the holographic tabletop they had used previously, much to Hunk's and Pidge's disappointment). Still, they found other ways to entertain themselves for at least a few solid vargas.

  
  


Much to Keith's chagrin, tonight's game of choice was teaching the alteans how to play charades. Black's viewport was filled with the vidcomms from the other lions: Coran and Allura in Blue, Shiro and Pidge in Green, Lance and Romelle in Red and Hunk and the mice who were nestled on his shoulders in Yellow. The plethora of screen colors certainly brightened Black's violet cockpit.

  
  


As keen as he wasn't to actually participate, he did find solace and arguably even joy in watching the group interact. Loathed he might be to admit it, but he had desperately missed them all while he had been with the Blades - yes, even Lance (though maybe not as much as the others). Keith knew the other paladins and he hadn't really gotten along well before he had left, but regardless he felt like he had missed out on so many memories the team had created together. The Monsters and Mana session in particular was a prime example; truthfully he wasn't exactly excited to play the game, but the paladins had spoken so fondly of their first playthrough – he wished he could have been there to have witnessed it.

  
  


At least in a way he felt like these sessions were making up for those lost moments. Plus it was especially entertaining when the clash of cultures came into play.

  
  


Lance threw his hands up in the air. “I don't even know what a klanmüirl is!”

  
  


Coran curled his mustache, indignant. “Well, number five knew what it was.”

  
  


“Of course Pidge knew; Pidge knows everything!” The words were not heated, just matter-of-fact.

  
  


“Maybe if you had spent all of that time lounging around the castle doing something useful instead, like studying,” the Green Paladin shrugged nonchalantly.

  
  


“Um, no, because one: you told me that the 'Learn Altean' lesson tried to kill you every time you messed up, and if _you_ were struggling with it then _I _didn't have a chance, and two: the last time I tried to do something useful on the castle, I almost got cryogenically frozen indefinitely and then barely avoided getting jettisoned into space! Keith even had to save me - tell her, Keith.”

  
  


The Blade smirked from his seat in the Black Lion. “He's not wrong.”

  
  


“See?!”

  
  


“Maybe this can be a way for us to learn about each other,” Shiro, ever the diplomat, interjected from beside Pidge's seat. “Does it really matter who gets what right? It's not like we're keeping score.”

  
  


“Shiro. Homie. My second main man,” Lance leveled seriously as he straightened his posture to look hard into the vidcomm. “Of course it matters. Romelle, Coran and Allura have been switching off turns for the last fifteen dobashes because they are the only ones who can correctly guess the answers. You don't know just how many great ideas I have just waiting to be unleashed!”

  
  


“Right, of course,” Shiro grumbled, rubbing a hand across his face, “how silly of me to suggest it.”

  
  


“Lance has a point though,” Pidge pointed out, trying not to grin at her flight buddy's near-defeated tone while she gently patted his back.

  
  


“Then we can make sure to mix it up!” supplied Allura cheerfully. Suffice to say she was the one enjoying the game the most. “We can use names and words from both of our home planets, and interchange them with the things we've seen on our travels together.”

  
  


“I feel like I'm going to be at a disadvantage here,” Romelle huffed, leaning over the back of Red's pilot seat, her arms draped over the edge.

  
  


“Then it will be a good way for us to share more of our stories with you, Romi!” Hunk smiled. “And we can just rotate turns instead of doing winner-goes-next. Sound good?” Everyone looked at one another, before turning back and agreeing.

  
  


Keith chuckled to himself, tangling his fingers in the fur on the space wolf's head. _Another diplomatic crisis averted,_ he thought as Lance stepped forward to lead the next round. Yeah, Keith knew he was the supposed team leader but as far as he was concerned, that was for war efforts only. Even if he had grown significantly into the role as the head of Voltron, there were just some leadership skills he never saw himself ever excelling in. In those cases he was more than happy to step back and let the team figure it out. Besides, the only one who was really good at that sort of thing was Shiro.

  
  


Distracted, the Black Paladin carefully looked as discretely as possible at the silver-haired man who was actively trying to guess what Lance was miming (it was a Garrison simulator, duh). He seemed... a bit better – at least he was smiling a little more, even if it wasn't as bright as he used to before the second fight with Zarkon. He certainly hadn't been smiling after his most-recent tango with the healing pod. The man's posture also seemed relatively relaxed now despite the ever-present tension he still held in his shoulders.

  
  


Maybe - maybe it _had _been better for him to switch to Green.

  
  


But now... Keith couldn't help but wonder what it was about being away from the Black Lion that was helping. Or if it really was just Pidge's company that he needed. Or maybe....

  
  


Maybe it was just space from the half-galran himself. He didn't know how much of the clone's memories Shiro had retained; the older man seemed hesitant to talk to any of them about what had happened at the cloning facility. Yet Keith alone had so many gaps in the story he wanted filled. Did Shiro remember the details of the fight at all or even Keith's final words to him on that platform?

  
  


In fact, could that have been....?

  
  


The current Black Paladin worried his lower lip. It was funny how easy it was for him to charge into a battle against all odds, yet he was too cowardly to broach a simple conversation. At this point, he was afraid to learn what the truth even was and more so what it implied. Besides, he wasn't sure he'd even know what he would want to say.

  
  


Keith knew the truth of the words he himself had said at the factory; he meant every single one of them. He loved Shiro, in every capacity, in every way. As a friend, as family, maybe even as something more. But to Keith, he didn't feel a need to put a name to it, so long as he had Shiro in his life in some way. And yet it felt like his previous mentor and once-close friend was now slowly slipping through his fingers like sand. And Keith didn't know what to say that wouldn't make that sand fall even faster.

  
  


It was while he was lost in his ruminations when he noticed it. He wasn't sure when it had started, or when the voices of the others had slipped away. It was a quiet thing, practically inaudible. At first he couldn't even put a name to it, the sound garbled like static, but listening intently, his eyes unfocusing, he thought he heard …. words? Like whispers....

  
  


What were they saying...?

  
  


“Keith!”

  
  


He startled, the vidcomms in the viewport in front of him snapping back into his vision. Just like that, the noise was gone, like it never had happened. Had it even been there to begin with...?

  
  


It was then he realized that everyone was staring at him.

  
  


“I...ah-”

  
  


“Dude, it's _your_ turn,” Lance griped, raising an eyebrow.

  
  


“Oh, right. Sorry, I spaced out. Um...” Keith searched for a subject to mime but came up completely blank, his thoughts scattered. It was like his mind had been completely wiped of ideas. All he could focus on was what that noise had been, even as the memory faded. Was he hearing things?

  
  


Time ticked by mercilessly, his silence profound.

  
  


“Keith?” Romelle began, her tone gentle. “You're looking a little pale. Are you still feeling unwell?”

  
  


“I...” He couldn't be sure if she intended it to be an out or not, but he took it as one anyway. “...A little. Just haven't been sleeping well the last few nights. I think I might call it early today and see if I can make up for it. Sorry guys,” he added the last bit in response to the whining sounds emanating from a few of the game's participants (namely Lance, Hunk, and Pidge).

  
  


“Go get some rest,” Allura smiled patiently, cocking her head a bit to the side. “We may need our Black Paladin at full strength, but it's just as important that you simply feel better. I hope you sleep well.”

  
  


“Thanks, Allura.” He returned the smile, grateful. “I'll see you guys in the morning. Don't forget we have another drill session tomorrow, so don't stay up too late.” His comment was met with groans as well as a “yes, space mom” which he soundly chose to ignore. “'Night, guys.”

  
  


“Seems like a convenient time to duck out,” smirked Lance, rushing to get the last word in. “You sure it's not because you're afraid I'll be better at this than you?”

  
  


Keith rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him. “_Goodnight, Lance._” And with that, he disconnected the calls.

  
  


The swordsman stood with a stretch and turned to leave. Before heading back into the cargo area however he paused, looking back out into the vast empty space behind the viewport. Keith listened intently with eyes closed for the whispering, for any noise whatsoever, but all he was met with was silence. With a sigh, he headed off to bed.

* * *

He carefully made his way down the dark hall, the clacking of his boots upon the metal floor the only sound in an otherwise eerie silence. Somehow he could still somewhat see despite the absence of any light.

  
  


What was he doing here? Where was he going...?

  
  


His mind struggled to form any sort of coherent thought beyond barely registering his surroundings: a corridor, devoid of any doors or furnishings, gradually sloping downward.

Downward to where...?

  
  


He didn't know; all he knew was that he had to keep going.

  
  


Something was down below and it was desperately calling for him.

  
  


Trudging onward, he wrapped his arms around his shivering body, the bone-chilling cold slowly paralyzing his limbs. Still he pressed on, even as the metal corridor shifted into dirt and stone. Despite the damp humidity that now filled the cavern path, nothing grew among the crags. By all means this place shouldn't have been able to support any sort of life - yet he thought he could hear a faint skittering within the walls.

  
  


The stagnant air became thicker and uncomfortably warm, a rank moisture like a hot breath threatening to suffocate him, making him feel like he was sick with fever. Without forewarning the ground abruptly became soft, his steps sounding as if something was squishing underfoot. He looked down, startled to see a fleshy-like substance covering the floor. Quickly raising his head, he watched the organic mystery slowly growing from the black depths before him to cover the surrounding walls.

  
  


He stepped back once, twice, before a sudden slimy noise came from behind. He pivoted sharply in time to see what could only be described as tentacles slithering across the stone floor and walls from the darkness he had just came from. He froze, stunned with fear, only turning to run when something roared from the depths, a roar that shook pebbles and dust from the ceiling.

  
  


He sprinted as fast as he could, even as the passage become narrower and narrower, the fleshy material growing so uncomfortably close he thought he could feel it pulse. What little luck he had ran dry as the corridor came to a dead end. Panicking, he desperately searched for a way out, only finding a sizable hole in the floor that reminded him of the beginning of an esophagus, a noxious miasma rising from within it. He spun on his feet to look back, saw the tentacles filling the entire passage as they approached, when suddenly something stabbed into his arm, the sheer force of it causing him to stumble back with a cry of pain.

  
  


Gasping, he looked down to see some sort a leech-like monstrosity as the culprit. It was an eyeless creature, about five feet in length with a gaping maw much like a lamprey. Likely the source of the skittering he had heard previously, several legs trailed its sides steadily going from smaller in the back to longer in the front. The front pair ended in two-foot-long wickedly-curved blade-like claws, one of which was now embedded in his forearm.

  
  


He grabbed at the talon with his free hand, desperate to remove it but to little avail - the beast wasted no time scaling his body, wrapping its slimy tail tightly around his torso. Off-balanced from both the weight and the pain, he staggered against his will.

  
  


Toppling right into the fleshy hole.

  
  


Wind tore past him as he fell, the creature slowly unraveling from around him. It jumped to embed itself in the organic walls he was quickly leaving behind, carelessly ripping its claw from his arm. With a scream he clutched the bleeding wound to his chest even as he continued to tumble through the air. Ticks later the tissue-encased tunnel faded into an endless pitch-black void. Opening his eyes, he saw approaching swiftly from below a sort of underground, torch-lit chamber, large with four walls but no apparent ceiling. There looked to be a decorated cracked altar on one end, several rows of stone pews facing it and a red runner in between them that led to what seemed to be a green pool on the other side of the room. A pool he was rapidly approaching.

  
  


Even his panicking mind knew there was no way he could possibly survive a fall like this, even if he landed in the water.

  
  


Yet by some miracle he wasn't crushed when he hit the liquid's surface, plunging deep into its depths. Immediately he realized it wasn't water at all but a thick viridescent ooze, the taste of it nocuous and vile as it flooded his mouth and lungs. His limbs flailed as he desperately tried to surface, struggling for long moments before his head finally broke free of the slime's grasp. Hacking up the putrid green substance, he dragged his broken body out of the pool, collapsing just beyond it.

  
  


Drained, bleeding and barely able to catch his breath, he raised his head to find himself surrounded by towering humanoid-like shadows - shadows that he hadn't seen in the room during his descent. Despite their smoky, edgeless forms their grip was solid like steel as one of them grabbed his wounded arm and another a fistful of his hair, dragging him down the aisle to the center of a runic circle just in front of the altar. Weakened from his injuries, he could do little to fight for freedom as the other shades joined their brethren, each of them placing what could pass for a hand on his body, spindly fingers holding tight while whispers of an almost-inaudible chant began to rise from within the room.

  
  


Suddenly, agony viciously sparked like a lightning bolt through his body. He screamed, thrashing to little effect, his chest feeling as if it was burning from the inside out. The indecipherable chanting steadily grew louder and louder into a cacophony of indescribable noise.

  
  


k̴̨̗͕̘̩̖̩̲͛̕ͅͅn̷̢͕̘͂͒̅͌͊̏ṏ̷̥͔̞̥̞̖͕̀̾̏̉͋̉͠w̴̢͙̺͎̯̹̋ ̸̳̲͇̂͆̔̈́̾̀̍͒u̴̢͇̭̠̣̝͌̂͑͘s̷͇͖̓̐̈̑̑̽͑̎̚ ̵͎̲̩̬͉̥͉͐k̵̡̅̿̌͒̿̕n̸̢̹̯̤̺̼̾̉͐ǫ̷̼̯̞̪̹̟̟͓͛̉̋̊̑̈̕̕w̶̢̱̔̿͌̽ ̵͙̘͕̬̻̲͚̮̞̙̆̏̈́̄͌̈́̇̾͝ṵ̶̣̬̐͌͑ṡ̴̢̛͙͇͍̞̼̳̗̻́̐͆̚͘̚͘͠ ̶͇̙̞́̈́͜ͅk̷̜̪̙͍͆̾̿̒͗ṇ̶̰̹̰͓́̈͌ǒ̴̧̰͚͖̗̜̹͖͘w̸̲̐̇̒͐͜ṷ̴̓̀͒̈́͒͛̓̋s̴̢̧̡̞̜̮̮͓͙͋͆̆͂̀͌̂̐k̶̛̞͇̺͕̰͔̞͊̊͐͜n̶̛̬͙̠̥̈́͗ͅõ̴͎̠̳̏̍̓̕͝w̷̦̮̺͍̞̹̄̈́u̶̹̼͔͇̖̙̰̩͖͕̒̄͋̆ṡ̶̢͓͕̊̏͌̆̋͂͑͛̌K̵̹̠̖̞̠̘͙͌̓̃̈́̑́̕N̵̻͉̲̥̣̫̱̫̝̹̆O̶̬̠̯̲̙̙̤͖̮̎W̶̪̩͇̥̼͖̩̓̈́̔̿͘̚U̶̬̽̿͋̿Ș̷̢͍̩̻͔͑̍͜K̷̨̫͎̝̮̼͓̆̽̍̉̋̾͜N̸̢͇̘̙̽̅̌͆̐̕͜͝͠Ȏ̶͈̝̫̣͓̮͖̾̅̇̂̇̓̑͌͜Ŵ̷̢̤͈̖̤̗̮̹̏̔̇Ú̴̺͚̽̏̿̂S̷̩͕͈̳͆͒͊͊̾͑̉̚_...._

  
  


It was too much – it was shredding his skin to pieces - he couldn't contain it - couldn't stop it - it would destroy everything around him - it was tearing him apart -

  
  


_ **KNOW US** _

  
  


With a strangled cry Keith's eyes shot open as he sat up. His breath stuttering as he struggled to take in precious air, panic squeezed his chest unmercifully while his heart raced behind his ribs.

Where was he? Was he safe? Where they gone?!

  
  


Slowly the room came into focus - he was sitting in bed in his cabin, in the cargo hold of the Black Lion. _Where I've been the whole time_, he desperately reminded himself. As he became more aware of his surroundings, the Blade forced himself to calm his breath, dispelling the dizziness and disjointed feeling that the lack of air had been causing. It was then he realized he was shivering badly, his body thoroughly covered in sweat that was now beginning to cool. Nausea threatened to overwhelm him and he swallowed hard to keep what little dinner he had managed to eat down. His fingertips were also tingling, his hands shaking; he rubbed them together close to his body, trying to get the feeling back into them.

  
  


It took doboshes before Keith finally felt stable, finally felt some semblance of calm. The swordsman sighed as he swung his legs over the side of the cot, rubbing his hands across his face in frustration. Another sleep cycle of nothing but nightmares, the third in a row in fact, each night's steadily becoming more harrowing. He didn't understand it at all; the last time he had suffered such kinds of dreams, it was back when he had suspected he was part galra. But back then he had _known_ the source of his stress. What exactly did he have to be stressed about now? Sure there was a lot going on, but it was no different than before his journey into the Quantum Abyss, no different than any other time really. In fact, the Blade missions had been far more stressful. Funny how exposed you felt when you didn't have a quintessence-driven war machine to hide behind.

  
  


Cause aside, Keith also couldn't make any sense of the source for the nightmares' material, couldn't figure out what daytime situation could have possibly contributed content to them. He'd never seen these places before nor the creatures that had inhabited them in the dream. It had been like a horror movie, except he was never one for watching them growing up.

  
  


Regardless, it didn't matter – he definitely wasn't getting any more sleep tonight.

  
  


The Black Paladin looked to the holo-clock beside his bed to check what time it was; if it was early enough he could see about relieving whoever was currently on watch duty. However when he went to look at the nightstand something else in the dark room caught his eye, something lying on the floor. He gingerly knelt down to inspect it, finding it to be the Voltron Show holo-picture he normally kept on the stand. Back on the castle, Coran had stored the leftovers of any unpurchased merchandise from when the team had been parading around for publicity. When the group had been evacuating the castle in order to sacrifice it to close the errant wormholes, given that pretty much all of his belongings were still on the main Blade base (assuming the base still even existed), Keith decided to pinch the photo that Coran had no intention of saving. Though thankful that he himself never had to participate in the shows, Keith treasured the silly photo as the memento it was for his team, a memory of more light-hearted times. Plus he got a kick out of Allura's sullen imitation of him.

  
  


The photograph now lay completely shattered on the floor.

  
  


He solemnly stared at the damage before sighing in disappointment; given the scorched edges of the numerous broken pieces, it must have short circuited when it fell – with the additional electrical damage the device looked completely beyond repair. He must have knocked it off of the stand in the midst of his nightmare. Keith hadn't done that on the previous nights, but he supposed that there was a first time for everything.

  
  


Figures one of the only two sentimental things he owned would get completely ruined. Still, maybe Pidge could save the data on it if it was still viable. He knew he would get poked fun at for having kept the device, but whatever; it would be worth it for a chance to have it back. At least it was a far better alternative than the jokes he'd face if he asked for a group picture.

  
  


Ugh, he could already see Lance's expression.

  
  


Keith carefully scooped up the pieces of the photograph, running his palm across the floor to make sure none were missed. It was when he went to set them down on the stand, however, that he noticed the marks on the furniture's surface – marks that he didn't remember being there before.

  
  


Were those... scorch marks?

  
  


He slowly ran a finger over the gouges. It didn't make any sense: it would have taken a considerable force to damage the holograph enough for it to fry itself. If he had hit it hard enough in his sleep to do so, he'd have expected it to be on the other side of the room, not beside his bed.

  
  


What could have...?

  
  


Keith shook his head. The nightmare must have gotten to him more than he had expected. Those marks had to have been there the whole time and he just hadn't noticed them until now - it wasn't like he was in the cabin for anything more than sleeping. That was a more realistic explanation, especially given how often Pidge got on him for missing small details.

There was nothing to be done about the picture until morning. In the meantime, Black's paladin yawned, grabbing his blanket and heading back to the Lion's cockpit. Maybe staring out at open space would put his mind at ease enough to finally let him get some sleep.

  
  


It didn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone has a good matching song for the nightmare sequence, I would love suggestions; all of the ones I had didn't really have the adrenaline of the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

Before Krolia had departed, she had programmed a stock of drills for the team to continue training with in her absence. Sure it kept their skills honed, but as exhausting as it was to complete the trials it was also a way to keep themselves occupied in the bleak emptiness of intercosmic space. Space madness after all was no joke.

The premise of the day's run was for the team to bypass a galran empire blockade so as to help liberate an occupied planet where the residents had been captured and placed into work camps. In this particular scenario, it wasn't just about battling the armada that patrolled the airspace barely within the planet's orbit. Challenging as it was to maneuver the Lions with some semblance of agility whilst engaging a nimble fleet on the fine line between space and gravity, they also needed to be cognizant of the innocent lives below. It was essential to be conscious of every blow they dealt so as to avoid collateral damage to the workcamps courtesy of falling debris.

So far, their offensive was working as planned. The fastest of the Lions, Green and Red, had infiltrated and bypassed the blockade before the enemy even realized what was happening. Their onslaught left a sizable gap in the galra defenses, giving the Yellow, Blue and Black Lions space to slip through. As the former two Lions continued their descent, Keith pulled Black back up, creating a pincer-like attack alongside the green and red warships.

“Allura! We've got interference with the comms to the work camps; use your sonic cannon to take out those towers!”

“I'm on it!”

“Pidge, that frigate has ion cannons on its port. I need you to stop them from firing in the direction of the camps.”

“Roger!”

With the cannons disabled thanks to the Green Paladin, it was easy enough for Lance to bring Red in to slide her jaw blade across the ship's edge, explosions rupturing in its wake.

“That's one threat down!” Lance called out with a grin.

“Keith!” hailed Hunk from the planet's surface. “There's a work camp right next to an energy reactor down here. If it blows, it's gonna completely take out all three of the camps!”

The Black Paladin gracefully swiveled his Lion in the air, catching below him through his viewport what Hunk was pointing out. “Can you provide covering fire long enough for the camps to evacuate?”

“Possibly,” the other paladin replied, landing Yellow a ways away from the reactor as her paws latched down, the clamps providing the necessary leverage for his heavy cannon. “We need to get a message to the camps ASAP though!”

“Pidge?”

“Allura's got the towers down; I just need a moment to figure out the comm frequency.”

“Do it,” he responded as he drove Black to maul a nearby cruiser that had been taking aim at Green. “I'll provide you covering fire.”

_We need to destroy the battle cruiser..._

_ Quickly, before they can escape..._

“Are you kidding, Lance?!” Keith balked, pivoting Black to the side before returning fire on a galra warship with Black's ion tail laser. “The size of that thing will take out most of the ground below us!”

“What?” Lance squawked. “I didn't say anything!”

“But... Wait,” Keith stumbled, caught off guard by the reply. “Didn't you just say to take out the heavy cruiser?”

“No!” Came the indignant response.

“Oh,” he blinked, then shook his head. “Sorry.”

Lance's screen popped up, his direct comm public to the rest of the Lions. “You hearing things, Mullet?” Despite the Red Paladin's choice of words, there was no disgruntled tone in his voice. Had it been anyone else, Keith might have thought that the younger man was actually concerned.

“Yeah, yeah,” he casually waved him off. “Just didn't sleep well last cycle. Sorry.”

“Maybe we should cancel,” Hunk jumped in, his screen appearing above Lance's. His gaze was darting harriedly about as he fired his cannon at the ships above.

“It's fine!” Keith said more sternly, straightening his back in his chair. “I'm fine. Let's go!”

They pressed on, the Red and Green Lions flying interchangeable amongst themselves to deliver devastating blows to the enemy forces whilst the Blue and Yellow Lions handled the ground defenses, simultaneously destroying anti-aircraft artillery and keeping any errant falling debris from striking the camps. Keith managed the air space between the two pairs, continuing to call out plans of attack and changes in enemy strategy as he saw them.

But despite their synchronized teamwork, the battle was grueling even for a Krolia-planned drill. The team was quickly wearing down both physically and mentally, and when Keith called for Red to dive as a diversion to assist the ground Paladins, it left a hole in Green's defenses. Perhaps this would normally not have been a fatal flaw, but the Marmoran Blade had also forgotten about the Galran Empire corvettes that had until now been keeping their distance.

Almost immediately the smaller enemy ships descended, swarming on Green's flank, driving her down and distracting the others. With a muttered curse, Keith banked Black hard after them. He might not have had the speed to catch up, but a well-aimed blast from his ion cannon would certainly do the trick. Gritting his teeth, he quickly lined up the shot, the corners of his eyes darkening as they narrowed in focus on his target.

He could fix this. They could recover from this and still win.

Yet the darkness of his peripheral kept encroaching on his sight until suddenly with a rush it blanketed his vision entirely. It was as if the world below had been immersed in a gray-scale miasma, the planet's surface devoid of color and life. Past the battling ships below him weren't the intact work camps that his team was struggling to protect; they had instead been replaced with a town, the buildings of which were swallowed in fire, the surrounding war-torn land ashened and scarred. He could see unidentifiable shadows moving among the flaming debris – whether they were the town's citizens or its attackers, he couldn't tell. But it didn't stop him from hearing the screams rise as if he were dead center of the massacre himself.

Keith sharply inhaled, his eyes going wide. He was paralyzed in shock, unable to move, unable to think, unable to breathe-

A violent shudder rattled him as Black took a direct hit from one of the cruisers, sending the Lion tumbling through the air. Panicked and panting, his vision having finally cleared, he fought to quickly right the warship just in time to watch Allura dive, rushing in vain to protect the Green Lion from the onslaught she was receiving in his neglect. Yet the bulk of the Blue Lion made it too lumbersome against the smaller, more maneuverable attack ships. Even with their light weaponry the sheer number of the enemy crafts was enough to overwhelm both Lions. The two tumbled from the sky, disabled before Keith could even utter a word or move to engage.

Red, the fastest Lion, was able to easily intercept Green's descent, but Yellow couldn't manage the same speed and was simply too far away. Hunk pushed her as fast as she could go, but it just wasn't enough before Blue hit the planet's surface, her bulk crushing one of the work encampments.

The screen suddenly cut off, a stifling, incessant beep filling the silence now that the sounds of battle had dissipated. An angry red light blared across Keith's console, a stark symbol of failure. The fabric of his suit crinkled as he tightened his grip on his shifters, his shoulders slumping. Everything seemed to come to a standstill as the drill on the Lion's viewport faded back to the endless expanse of space, the red letters still angrily blinking at him.

Failure, and because of him. Not once, not twice, but three mistakes on his behalf. This was _exactly_ what he had been trying to avoid, this kind of absentmindedness and unreliability. What if this had been a real fight? All of those lives gone, his team overrun, and it would have been all his fault.

He was better than this. He _needed_ to be better than this.

Keith closed his eyes, his body still. It was startling like his first days of leadership all over again. A stifling quiet surrounded him as none of the other pilots said anything for what felt like dobashes. They didn't need too - he could already imagine what they were thinking. Then, Pidge's screen popped up, her green light a juxtaposition to the crimson of his viewport before the “mission failure” message finally closed.

“Keith...” she started, her voice soft as if speaking to a frightened animal. “You know we don't blame you, right?”

The yellow of Hunk's Lion appeared shortly thereafter. “Yeah man, it was a tough battle.”

At first he said nothing. There was still a pull in his chest to bite back with a retort like he would have done years ago. But his anger this time had been born from disappointment with himself and not of a desperate frustration as from before; it left the edge of his fury far more blunted and weary as a result.

Keith's eyes opened, his gaze downward. “...It's not about blame,” he stated dully. Even he didn't believe his own words. “It's about learning from mistakes and doing better.” The Black Paladin's subdued tone made the words sound fake, forced, as if regurgitated from a textbook.

The vidscreen of the Blue Lion appeared next to Hunk's with both Allura's and Coran's faces in shot, both looking enervated, or maybe it was concern – he couldn't tell. “Keith,” Allura began. “Perhaps it would be best if we took a rest at the next viable planet we come across. I'm admittedly feeling a bit fatigued.”

“... Alright.” He might have fought the suggestion if it had been on his behalf, but Allura had likely drained herself dispelling Macidus's trap. Despite the flight from the ruins thus far being thankfully uneventful, there wasn't much rest to be found in enclosed spaces. Time outside of the Lions and some fresh air were just as beneficial for their state of minds as for their bodies. It didn't help that they hadn't rested much before disembarking in the first place - another bad call of his. “Pidge, can you find us a spot to set down?”

“Way ahead of you. I've been actively scanning ahead to determine where our next possible rest points should be.” She adjusted Matt's glasses on her face. “There's a planet we'll be reaching in about a varga that has a breathable atmosphere. Water will be scarce, but it should be enough for a brief stay. I don't detect any sort of civilization, hostile or otherwise.”

“Done. Thanks, Pidge.” Keith turned back to the rest of his peers. “Keep course; we'll reconvene in fifty dobashes to prepare for landing. Until then, spend it as you see fit. Dismissed.” With a press of a button he closed each of the vid screens, only to pinch the bridge of his nose with a grimace as he leaned back in his chair. The headache he had been sporting since the early vargas of the morning had only worsened, likely no thanks to his lack of sleep from the night before. And now on top of it all, apparently he was starting to hallucinate.

_What is wrong with me...?_

Unexpectedly, another vidscreen popped up on his view port. It shone a vivid emerald, but this time it wasn't Pidge's face he saw.

“Keith...?” Came Shiro's unexpected voice, causing the current Black Paladin to jerk his head up. The expression the older man wore was one of concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Shiro!” The half-galra's eyes widened in surprise. Keith hadn't spoken with him since they had parted ways after the battle with Macidus. His visage softened and then fell once he had recovered from the surprise; for a brief and whimsical moment, he had forgotten in his excitement that he and Shiro weren't exactly on the best of terms anymore. “Everything's fine.”

“Keith...” Shiro seemed to sigh. It was difficult to read the man's expression – the only thing Keith could confidently discern anymore was that the other seemed uncertain.

It was then Keith realized that the reason his heart was still racing even after the battle wasn't from the remnants of adrenaline but because of anxiety. He subconsciously had been expecting Shiro to chastise him with a lecture like the clone once would have done. The realization hit him with a heavy guilt that had him swallowing down nausea. Before Shiro disappeared, Keith's heart would have fluttered for the silver-haired man's gentle understanding; even if the latter had constructive criticism to offer, it never would have been delivered with the harshness that the clone had done when he had been in one of his moods.

It wasn't fair to Shiro. None of what had happened had been his fault and now he was being punished for something he hadn't even been present for, all because a look-alike had worn his face. Hell, it likely wasn't even the clone's fault; he had been sporting constant migraines most of the time, no thanks to Haggar's influence. Plus, all other times the unfortunate copy had only seemed grateful for the friendship of the other paladins. The current Black Paladin wondered whether any of the others had asked about or even considered the clone's fate after Shiro's soul had been moved into the duplicate's body - Keith certainly hadn't.

The guilt and nausea returned ten-fold.

“It was just a slip up,” the Blade soldier bit out, “it won't happen again. I'm going to grab something to eat. I'll catch you later, Shiro.”

“Keith, that's not-” but the vidscreen had already cut off before Shiro could finish his sentence. Keith sat back in his seat, removing his hand from the button he had used to disconnect the call. He didn't want to hear the rest of Shiro's words, too drained to bear whatever the previous Voltron leader was about to say. The Blade soldier doubled over with his elbows on his knees, exhaling in frustration while he ran his fingers through his hair. It was cowardly, he knew, but it felt like it was all he could do to keep himself pieced together at the moment. The lack of sleep was chipping away at his foundation, his composure.

He knew deep down that Shiro hadn't called to rebuke him for his slip up. He _knew_ that, because he knew Shiro. There was no excuse for his reaction, especially when Shiro was only looking out for him. But Shiro didn't need Keith's problems on top of his own, the Paladin thought as he stood up to walk out of the Black Lion's cockpit. He headed to his cot to lay down, making no motion of grabbing any of the food rations he had.

No one needed Keith's problems, least of all himself.

* * *

Shiro couldn't keep the sigh from escaping his lips as he sat back in Green's pilot seat. He probably should have expected Keith's reaction; it had been starkly similar to how he had acted back when the younger man had first suspected he was part galra. Yet the Garrison pilot knew that the disappointment he now tasted wasn't due to Keith or how he had responded, but rather that it felt as if their friendship had backtracked to its early stages, back to when Keith had been completely untrusting of others, Shiro included. The older man had at least hoped that after how he had responded to the revelation that Keith wasn't fully human that the other would know he would always support him.

_Yeah,_ his inner voice thought bitterly._ Except you ran away to Green the first opportunity you had without even providing a real explanation. Of course he's not going to trust you._

It was a painful but well-deserved truth. Trust begets trust; Shiro hadn't opened up to him, so it was completely unfair to expect the current Voltron leader to open up in return. But how could Shiro do so when a sizable chunk of his tangled and incomprehensible thoughts had to do with the Black Paladin himself?

“Hey.” He looked over his shoulder to watch Pidge return with two water packets in hand. Shiro moved to give her back her seat, but she shook her head, the curled edges of her sandy locks brushing her cheeks. “Nah, don't stand up. I need some time out of that thing anyway.” She instead handed him one of the packets before hoisting herself up on top of the adjacent console.

“Thanks,” he replied gratefully as he took the pouch from her.

“No problem.” Pidge nudged her head toward the console. “So, no luck?”

It took everything he had not to sigh again. “No,” he responded, removing the packaged straw and embedding it into the little indentation on top. “He cut the comm line.”

The small scientist's eyes widened in shock. “Cut the line? On you of all people? Something's definitely going on.”

“Maybe...” Shiro turned to look out the view port, unable to make eye contact. “Or maybe it's just me he doesn't feel comfortable talking to.”

“Shiro...” Pidge started, but before she could continue, the console came to life as a new call came in. She reached over to tap a button, Hunk's console popping up with a golden hue on the view port.

“Heeeey Shiro!” Hunk cheerfully said, his smile filling up the screen. The mice were with him as well, Platt on one shoulder, Chulatt and Plachu on the other with Chuchule nestled on top of his head. “Just the person I wanted to see!”

“What am I,” Pidge smirked, her arms crossed, “chopped liver?”

“I'll have you know that chopped liver is excellent so long as you soak it for long enough to remove the bitter taste and don't overcook it.”

“Hey Hunk,” Shiro smiled in return. He couldn't help but feel fond every time he saw the sunny teen. Hunk had certainly come a long way from the cowardly youth he was at the start of their adventure. His warm attitude was also incredible endearing, always capable of lifting the spirits of others in the same room.

“Sooooo I have a favor to ask,” the Yellow Paladin continued, the confidence with which he spoke about cuisine melting into something a bit more unsure. “Would you possibly be willing to talk with Keith and see if he's doing alright? It's not like him to take a hit like that when piloting.”

Another reason why Shiro was so fond of Hunk: count on him to notice the little details about other people.

“What?” questioned Pidge, honest surprise evident in her voice. “Keith took a hit? You sure it wasn't Blue or something? Keith doesn't take hits. At least not on accident, anyway.”

“Only if Blue suddenly grew wings,” Hunk quipped before taking a bite out of the food he was holding. It looked like a cross between a tiny bread loaf and a large pretzel and likely lacked any noticeable taste, if any of their other rations were to go by.

“When did that happen?”

“Ummmm, did you not see when he just sort of stalled mid-air before taking a cruiser blast to the side?”

“Was this when I was caught up in that dog fight toward the end? In that case, no, I didn't notice as I was a little bit preoccupied.” Her comment was certainly dry although not scathing in the slightest, much to Shiro's relief. He knew how hard Keith was on himself when it came to leading the team; he had hoped that the others wouldn't be harsh as well. It looked like his fear was unfounded and it warmed him to see how much progress the team had made in his absence with supporting each other.

“Oh,” Hunk stalled, a bit bashful. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Anyway,” Pidge waved off unperturbed, “Shiro already tried. Keith hung up on him.”

“... What.”

Shiro grimaced, not looking to start gossip but neither wanting to lie. “It's true.”

“Speaking of which,” continued the Green Paladin, “Shiro seems to think that Keith would feel more comfortable talking to someone else besides Shiro himself. Can you please explain to him why that's false?”

Wait, when did this suddenly become about him?

“Huh? Are we talking about the same Keith?” Hunk chuckled as he broke off a bit of the ration he held to feed to Platt. “Because you're, like, his favorite person, Shiro. Maybe even more so than his mom or Kosmo.”

Shiro shifted uncomfortably in the seat. “I mean, I highly doubt - ”

“There's never a day Keith _wouldn't_ want to talk to you. Not unless he was replaced by a Keith clone.”

“But I-”

“Hunk,” Pidge grumbled in subtle warning.

“Oh no, what if he was? He was gone for a long time with the Blades. Or maybe all of those times he was out with Red or Black in space looking for-”

“Hunk!”

“What?”

Pidge sharply nodded her head toward the previous Black Paladin whose face had fallen as he stared blankly out the view port.

“Ah, man, I'm sorry Shiro,” Hunk grimaced regrettably. “That was really tasteless of me.”

“It's no big deal,” he shrugged off as calmly as possible, even though his heart had picked up in pace, a flurry of memories threatening to overwhelm him just barely kept at bay. The room grew quiet, a noticeable lull in the conversation that Shiro didn't know how to fill.

Hunk however did. “... You know Shiro, I think I really should be asking if you're the one who's okay,” came his gentle words.

“Me?” Shiro's eyes widened in surprise, the change in topic catching him off guard. “I'm fine.”

“Shiro,” the Yellow Paladin began, softly but firmly. “Why aren't you riding with Keith anymore?”

Count on Hunk to navigate people as well as he navigated cuisine.

Silence filled the room as Shiro struggled to find something to respond with. He instead stared steadfastly at the Lion's floor in front of him, his brow furrowed and his frown sullen.

“You know,” started Pidge, her tone uncharacteristically gentle. She pushed off the console to crouch next to the man who had once protected her brother, peering up at his gloomy expression. “I _am_ really glad that you wanted to ride with me. Especially with Matt out there fighting, when I start to worry it helps to know someone who is now practically family to me is nearby.” Shiro looked over to her, stunned by the honest and heartfelt confession. “And I know I'm not the best with people and I like it to be quiet when I'm working on my projects, but that doesn't mean we can't talk, especially when you need to.”

When he still said nothing, Hunk spoke again with an earnest look. “You've been there every step of the way for all of us, Shiro. Even after having to deal with the galra and the Garrison and four teens who had literally no idea what they were doing, you kept us going, and I don't mean just as a team.” The Yellow Paladin cracked a fond smile. “It meant a lot to me how supportive you were of helping Shay and her people, and you were so patient with me when I was too busy freaking out half the time and throwing up the other half. And Lance... You really built him up you know? You guys might not have known it, but he was in a real slump before you three went to rescue Slav. That means the world to me too.”

“That's what a leader is supposed to do,” the older man responded almost mechanically.

“Maybe,” Hunk conceded, then shyly continued. “But I'd like to think that maybe it's because we're friends?” It was phrased as a question, as if he were unsure.

Shiro immediately looked up at him, frowning softly at the Yellow Paladin's uncertain tone. “Of course we are, Hunk.”

Hunk smiled in return. “Even after everything you've gone through, if one of us was dealing with a problem, would you still want to be there for us?”

The former Black Paladin stared back resolutely, a tense confidence lining his posture. “Without a doubt. Nothing would ever change that.”

“Even if we were a burden?”

“None of you are ever a burden,” he vehemently confirmed.

“So,” the younger man continued patiently, “don't you think we'd want to be there for you too?”

The tension withered from Shiro's frame, his shoulders drooping as the defensiveness from being put on the spot finally seeped out of him.

“The thing is, Shiro, and I think I can speak on behalf of everyone for this,” Hunk continued, tilting his head slightly, his expression warm. “You telling us your problems? That's not a burden for us. You're never a burden for us. We're just so grateful we have you back, to have you with us in the first place. So if we can help in some way, will you let us? We want to keep you around.”

Shiro's vision blurred, tears that he wouldn't let fall lining his eyes. Pidge gently rested a gloved hand on his shoulder as both of the paladins patiently waited.

After a few moments he finally spoke. “If I asked either of you what you would have done if you were me back when Macidus attacked us, what would you say?”

Pidge and Hunk looked at each other surprised, the spoken words not what they were expecting to hear. It was Shiro's turn to wait calmly as the two struggled for a response, both of their mouths working but only senseless, stalling noises coming out.

“I mean, there wasn't much any of us could do against Macidus,” commented Pidge. “Keith was the only one who could really hold a candle to him.”

“But you were able to distract him long enough for Keith to finally stop him.”

“Coran and Romelle were both unar- er – weaponless as well,” Hunk pointed out, desperately hoping that the older man didn't catch his slip up.

“They're also capable of bench-pressing you or me even on a bad day,” Shiro retorted dryly, raising an eyebrow. “I should know; it was Allura who hurled me across a hangar into a transport ship.”

“Ok... That's fair,” the Yellow Paladin uncomfortably conceded before perking up. “But, hey, they're not paladins like you are! They can't fly the Black Lion!”

The older man shrugged. “Yeah, well, neither can I.”

“What are you talking about?” Pidge asked hurriedly, ignoring Hunk's “What?!” in the background. “You've bonded with Black before. Twice in fact. Why not again?”

Shiro shook his head solemnly. “It's not like before. There's nothing there to bond with; I can't feel the Black Lion anymore. And besides, Keith is the rightful pilot of Black now. I'm not going to try to take that away from him.” He narrowed his eyes angrily. “Not like Zarkon tried to do to me.”

“I highly doubt it would be the same thing,” Pidge replied. “Shiro, you're nothing like Zarkon! And I don't think Keith would have a second thought about letting you fly Black.”

“Keith's come so far to become the leader of this team. I'm not about to stunt his progress just so I have a reason to be useful again. Besides,” he turned to look at the metallic stump of his right shoulder, the surrounding skin numb from where the metal bit into it, “how am I supposed to fly Black with one arm? How am I supposed to do anything with one arm besides a desk job?”

Pidge and Hunk shared a look before turning back to their older friend, Hunk the first to speak. “There's a lot to unpack in what you just said,” he began, his tone slow and gentle. “I'm not much of a leader, but I think the point of being a team is that we can help each other to keep going when we start to stumble. And Shiro, you've had every reason to stumble since the moment the galra arrived on Kerberos, yet you've kept going this entire time all on your own. Getting captured, fighting in the galra coliseum, having to lead all of us – heck, that's not even touching the whole dying-getting-revived-learning-you've-been-cloned piece of it.”

Hunk's expression gradually fell further and further as he went through the list. “That... that's a lot, Shiro. That's a lot to deal with. And what's worse, you haven't _had_ the luxury of time to deal with it. Now might be the only chance you get before this war is finally over. So do we expect you to be helping us out a bunch right now? Not really, no. We just want you to focus on healing.” He gave a small, honest smile. “It's okay to stumble; we'll be here to help pick you back up, just like you've done for all of us before. Acknowledging you're having a hard time doesn't make you any less amazing in my eyes.”

“Same,” Pidge chimed in confidently. “I can't say I know what it's like to be missing a limb; I can only guess just how frustrating that is. We can help with that though! As soon as we make it to Earth, Hunk and I can start drawing up plans for a new prosthesis. With Allura and Coran around, I bet they can help us make it just as mobile as the galra one was!”

“Yeah,” Hunk nodded, “and like, 90% less evil.”

Shiro gave a weak chuckle. “Just 90%?”

“I mean, Pidge would be helping build it.”

“How many times do I have to tell you guys I'm not an evil genius!”

“Um, yeah, that's what all evil geniuses say before they come out as evil geniuses.”

The silly conversation briefly reminded Shiro of the times in the castle lobby where the team would idly chatter after missions. It lightened his heart ever so slightly, lifting the mood of the room.

The squabbling between the Yellow and Green Paladins ceased as Hunk turned back to Shiro. “Anyway, about Keith, I wouldn't worry about stunting his growth or whatever. He's doing just fine leading the team already, plus you know he really doesn't care about being the leader. I honestly think he only does it because he wants to protect us.” Hunk paused a brief moment as he helped the mice off of his person, letting them run down his arm and out of the screen view. “You know the Black Lion takes the most damage and he's always the first one to throw himself into danger – it's kind of a perfect fit. I know you want the best for him, but at some point, he's got to be allowed to make the decision on what he wants for himself, by himself.” He offered a kind and consoling simper as he cocked his head. “That doesn't mean you can't help him, but maybe talk to him? Ask him what it is he wants? I don't think a single one of us even know what that could be - I mean, besides having you back.”

Shiro couldn't fight the blush that prickled his cheeks, nor the sinking guilt in his stomach for having fled rather than risk sharing a space alone with his long time friend, afraid of what might have been said.

“I just... I don't want to be one more problem for him to deal with. For anyone to deal with. It feels like that's all I've been since the first fight with Zarkon. Haggar's wound, my screwed memories about how I escaped, Zarkon tailing us through Black because our bond wasn't strong enough. And that's not even touching the whole dying piece of it.”

“You know, I'm not an expert at this kind of stuff,” Pidge interjected, dryly. “But I'm pretty sure the one person that's allowed to gripe the most about someone's death is the one who actually died.”

He just shook his head in response. “Heh, maybe. And here I am complaining about everything. Shouldn't I just be grateful for being alive? Not a lot of dead people get that luxury; the clone sure as hell didn't. I might have even been the reason for that, too.”

“Assuming that the clone's personality wasn't already destroyed when the arm got severed, what happened to him wasn't your fault,” came Pidge's emphatic reply as she rested a hand on his remaining shoulder and squeezed it. “And I don't think it's Allura's fault either. In the end it's all because of Haggar - we're just trying to make the best of the cards we're being dealt. I don't blame you for feeling bad though; that's the text-book description of survivor's guilt.”

“I'd say it's always good to be mindful of your blessings when you have them,” Hunk nodded in agreement. “But Shiro, being appreciative for what you have doesn't mean you have to settle for what you have. If you want to feel better, then we want you to feel better and we'll do anything we can to help you make that happen. The same thing I said about Keith goes for you too: think about what it is you want, what you _really _want, and then if you feel comfortable sharing it, tell us so we can support you as best we can. Just give yourself some time; it's not something you have to rush.”

There was nothing else Shiro could say to that, so he just numbly nodded. Satisfied with the response, Hunk's smile grew. “Thanks. Hey, I hate to cut this short but I need to get back to working on the coil repairs for the pressure cooker if we want any hope of eating something other than stale rations or food goo tonight. But I'm really glad we got a chance to talk. And thanks for chatting with me about Keith. I'm not trying to go behind his back; I'm just concerned about him especially since he's by himself now.” Catching Shiro's falling expression, Hunk desperately tried to backtrack while wildly waves his palms. “I mean – not to say that it's your fault or I blame you or anything! Just- well, you know, he's sometimes the resident loner of the group. I worry about him.”

_Yeah, you and me both._

Hunk continued, “I'm, ah... I think my 'say things without putting a foot in my mouth' meter just ran out, so um, yeah, I'm gonna go. Good talk. I'll see you guys in a little bit.” And with that, the vid comm screen closed.

Pidge couldn't help but chuckle, crossing her arms in the process as she stood up from her crouch, giving one last squeeze before releasing Shiro's hand in the process. “It's funny how he's able to say the right thing one moment and the complete wrong thing the next.” She twisted her body to face Shiro better. “Please don't take this as me being ungrateful because I really do appreciate you riding with me, but I did find it a bit of a surprise that you didn't want to ride with Keith anymore. And I don't think any of us know the full story of what happened after he chased the clone through the wormhole, nor do I think either of you owe us an explanation. But, I just want to check... Are you and Keith okay?”

He collected himself for a moment before sighing, feeling drained from being in the hot seat for the past forty dobashes. “I don't know, Katie. The things that happened at the cloning facility were – well, really bad is the understatement of the decaphoeb. Some of the things that were said...” _Some of the things _I_ said...._ His voice petered off as he gave up on trying to find the words, opting to shake his head instead. “Plus he's technically lived two extra years longer than the rest of us and before then he had been gone with the Blade for so long. Even when he was piloting Black while I was stuck in her mindscape I could barely see him. I just feel like the last time I really knew him was before that fight with Zarkon, and so much has happened and now we're both so different... Things just aren't the same as they were,” Shiro admitted as he slumped in the seat, crestfallen.

“You're definitely right about that,” Pidge agreed understandably. “But Shiro, at least about the 'different' bit - maybe that's not a bad thing? I mean, we're all pretty different from where we were when we started this journey, yet here we are, still together, maybe even closer in some ways. Just something to think about.” He hummed in response, unconvinced.

“Anyway,” she continued, nudging him, “time for you to budge over.”

Shiro grimaced. “Sorry, I'll get out of your seat-”

“Nope, not that,” she smirked, wedging herself in between him and the armrest of the chair. “You're not going anywhere. You're gonna sit here, right where you belong.”

“I – But - what about the supplies we need to pull?” He contested even as he did her bidding, twisting himself more onto his hip to give her more space to nestle in. “I can go do that-”

“Noooooope,” Pidge cut him off with a pop of her lips at the end of the word. “It can wait. Hunk's right; we all need to take some time for ourselves. We don't have to talk or anything. Let's just sit here for a bit.” She leaned into him using his shoulder as a pillow as her playful tone turned earnest. “I meant what I said before, you know. I really am glad you wanted to ride with me. And that you're back with us. You've done so much for my family, for me. If we had to end up in this war no matter what, I'm glad we did so together. You're just as much a brother to me as Matt is.”

_Shiro, you're my brother!_

_ I love you!_

He did his best not to flinch, the memories rushing forward unbidden. It wasn't Pidge's fault, plus her sentimental admission meant more to him than he could say. With the passing of his parents some time ago, the Garrison pilot had gone for so long feeling like he didn't have a family, not realizing that one had been forming around him the entire time.

Shiro's expression softened, his eyes watery with gratefulness. “Thank you Katie,” he managed, barely keeping his voice from wavering. “That means the world to me.”

“Yeah, well, you mean the world to me, so it takes one to know one,” she grinned before configuring Green's console to dim the lights. Pidge then grabbed his wrist, placing his arm over her shoulders as she snuggled in. “We've got a few more minutes before we have to start our descent; let's just enjoy this.”

Once the surprise from her bold move wore off, he smiled, giving her shoulder a grounding squeeze. Leaning back into each other, they both quietly peered out into the void of space, Shiro's mind for once quiet. It was a struggle to take Pidge's and Hunk's words to heart, to really accept what they were saying, but just their chatter alone had helped to fill the gap in his chest ever-so-slightly. If nothing else, even if he was a complete mess and pretty much useless when it came to helping with the war effort, he could take solace in knowing that the connections he had made along the way were real. That was enough for now.

It had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience on this latest chapter. I really struggled to write Shiro's conversation with Pidge and Hunk; it was a challenge to get the right flow to organically hit all of the points I wanted to make, which is part of the reason why it took so long to get this chapter out. Also thanks to Hunk, I now have “how to best prepare liver” in my search history. This chapter was also going to be a lot longer but I decided to split it in half to get something out to you guys sooner.
> 
> I just started a new team at my primary job and I got signed up for extra shifts for my secondary job this month, hence why updates are a bit more rare. If you are interested in status on chapter progress feel free to check out my twitter account (link below). I'm... really excited for the next chapter. That's all I'm gonna say ; )
> 
> Thank you so much for your support thus far!


	4. Chapter 4

Lance considered himself a straightforward kind of man.

Not _simple_ per se, because to the wrong listener that implied stupidity and despite what others sometimes thought, he wasn't an idiot. You needed high grades in order to get into the Garrison after all. Sure, he could be a bit naive around certain kinds of company but nine times out of ten he was on his mark. It showed when he piloted Red, when he gave tactical advice to his team leader in the midst of battle - just maybe not when Nyma conned him out of the Blue Lion, or when he couldn't figure out Pidge was actually a girl, or when -

You know what? He was getting off topic.

Anyway, the point he was trying to make was that his needs weren't overly complex: he liked spending his time with his family, piloting, getting a little bit of the spotlight now and then, and last but certainly not least (to no one's surprise) girls, especially the pretty ones. It was no secret he was a bit of a ladies-man, but what could he say? He was raised in a bit of an old fashioned home where they were taught that women (and really all people) were deserving of the utmost respect and acting on said respect was a privilege, one he happened to enjoy. To him there was something mesmerizing about the opposite sex, with how they could be so soft in nature one moment and so powerful the next. How could he not appreciate them?

It was one of the reasons he didn't hesitate to say yes when Romelle asked to switch from the Blue Lion to Red. Don't get him wrong – his heart belonged only to Allura (even if she didn't know it yet), but space was empty and the ride was lonely; he wasn't about to say no to someone wanting to ride shotgun with him, especially if said person was easy on the eyes.

But as he had said before, Lance wasn't stupid. He knew his silly heart-eyed antics were superficial and as he got the chance to get to know Romelle better, he became more and more grateful that she had joined their merry group. The girl was a fighter – she had to be to face her brother's death and then flee the only life she ever knew in order to bring a tyrant to justice. She didn't back down when Macidus attacked, running _toward_ the danger instead of away, and she fearlessly led the whole yalmor ordeal even when she was lacked any sort of combat training. It certainly impressed Lance, but what he appreciated most about the altean was how she reminded him of his sisters back home.

Maybe it was how she was dealing with the loss of Bandor (and he of all people wouldn't beget her for it if that was the case), by caring for each of the paladins despite barely even knowing them. It was truly something remarkable that after everything she had been through, she still had the heart to treat them all like family - making sure they ate and slept regularly and being an excellent listener any time he or Hunk would share stories. And admittedly it helped fill the gap of homesickness he had been suffering from since the start of their journey. Even with their travels finally taking them toward Earth instead of further away, the distance still felt immensely vast to cross.

Unfortunately however, she was similar to his sisters in other ways, too – particularly when it come to pestering him.

“Would you please, _please,_ stop pressing buttons?!”

The blonde woman huffed as she crossed her arms. “What if something happens and you can't fly Blue and I need to get us away to safety? It's imperative I know how this thing works. Besides, why would the Lion even need to expel mist? That's just silly.”

“I think it's a fire extinguishing feature. And that's beside the point! It doesn't work that way – the Lions just don't let anyone fly them!”

Romelle glared, her hands gripping at her hips now. “Are you saying I don't have what it takes?”

Quiznak she could be scary. He was beginning to regret his decision about letting her fly with him. Lance desperately waved his hands in front of him in a futile attempt to placate her. “N... No! That's not what I mean! It's just that there are like, built-in defense mechanisms to keep it from falling into the wrong hands.” When she threateningly raised an eyebrow, he backpedaled again. “By... By which I mean the Galra!”

She pouted in response, grumbling, “Keith told me that the Black Lion let him fly her when Shiro was in trouble.”

“I mean, yeah, but he ended up being her paladin anyway in the end!” The frustrated teen sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair. “Look, I'm not saying you can't or even won't ever fly one of the Lions. If or when it comes time, you'll know what to do. None of us knew anything about piloting the Lions when I first found Blue; the Lion sort of just, well, tells you how. Kind of on an instinctual level.” He gave her a consolation smile. “I'm just saying don't worry too much about it.”

“Oh, fine,” Romelle groaned as she rolled her eyes. “You win. I'll stop messing with the console.” She crossed her arms and worried her lower lip. “... I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a bit antsy.”

“Huh? You?” replied the Red Paladin, honest surprise in his voice. “How come?”

“Just... What Hunk said earlier, about Keith.” The blonde rubbed at her arm unconsciously. “I think he was right to be concerned.”

“Because of what happened in the training sim? I mean, yeah, he's not one to make sloppy mistakes like that.” Lance's voice held no malice, only a considering tone to it.

She nodded, “that's certainly part of it. It's hard to explain, kind of like little puzzle pieces that mean nothing by themselves but together can paint a picture. It's the little things I suppose, but it's giving me a feeling that we should check on him.”

“Wait,” he turned fully toward her. “We?”

“Yes, we,” she confirmed with a strict edge that told him 'no' wasn't an option. “We're landing in fifteen dobashes and I need a way to get him alone so that he can't avoid it and so the group doesn't know what's going on. You know he doesn't like his problems being put on display. And that's where you come in.”

“Me? What am I supposed to do?”

“Leave it to me,” Romelle grinned in response. “Just be ready for when I need you.”

“Okay... So just help you get him alone? That's all I need to do?” Lance questioned skeptically.

The blonde altean flipped her hair behind her. “Well, naturally you're also going to help me talk to him.”

The Red Paladin was pretty sure his eyes were about to pop out of his skull in shock. “You obviously don't know either him nor I very well if you think that's a sane idea! I'd be the _last_ person Keith would want to talk to!”

Romelle crossed her arms again, peering down at the pilot with a scrutinizing look. “And why's that? You're friends, right?”

Lance gulped, unable to stop a nervous sweat from starting on his forehead. “Friends... might be pushing the envelope.”

“What do envelopes have to do with this?” She questioned, cocking her head in confusion.

Right. Idioms. They never seemed to translate to the alteans.

Instead of explaining, he opted to sigh. “Look, I'll be honest: Keith and I... aren't exactly close. At all. And it's kind of my fault. I mean, it's his fault too – he's standoffish and has the social skills of a walnut most times. But I'm the one who put the wedge between him and I first.”

“What do you mean?” Romelle furrowed her brow, though thankfully she didn't seem like she was about to rip off one of his arms and beat him with it for what he said. She honestly looked as if she was carefully listening.

It encouraged him to continue. “I told you before I've got a lot of siblings, yeah? And most of them are older than me. That makes it kind of hard to stand out in any sort of way.” He turned away from her to look out the view port. “It was a big deal when I got into the Galaxy Garrison. My older sister Veronica was already there, but she was studying to be an analyst; I was the first in the family to be a pilot.”

Romelle frowned. “It sounds like things were going well for you,” she began softly, “but I'm guessing there's more?”

His responding laugh was devoid of humor. “When I finally tested for pilot rank, I only made cargo class. Let me tell you, they don't write news articles about cargo pilots or put their name into history books. But Keith, he got ranked top in fighter class. Same class that Shiro had been in back when he was a cadet.”

“I would argue that cargo pilots are vital, too, but I see your point,” she calmly conceded. “So this whole thing between you and Keith started because you were envious of him?”

“Yes and no,” came his honest response. “I mean, deep down, yeah I was probably jealous. But that really wasn't it.” Lance grimaced at himself. “Quiznak, looking back it all seems so stupid.”

“Hey.” She sat on the armrest and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, gently pulling him in. “Things in the past seem so obvious when you think on them, but that's only because you've learned along the way. That's not a bad thing.”

“...Yeah,” Lance somberly agreed. “I guess you're right. Still, it's embarrassing. I somehow got it in my head that Keith and I were rivals. I guess I thought if I couldn't be in the spot light, then the next best thing was to juxtapose myself against the person who was. At least then maybe I'd get noticed.”

“How did Keith respond to that?”

He dryly laughed again. “He didn't even know. Or if he did, he didn't think much about it. He didn't even remember my name when we both went to rescue Shiro from the Garrison after he had escaped from the Galra. That burned me even worse, like my name really wouldn't ever be remembered anywhere.” Lance scowled, squeezing one of the throttle sticks. “It was easy to write him off as a jerk who was so self-absorbed that he didn't care about anyone else. It doesn't help that he's blunt as hell.”

“You two don't _seem_ to be all that antagonistic towards one another.”

“Yeah, well,” the sharpshooter huffed, “it helps that I finally got my head out of my butt about a lot of things. I wouldn't have been nearly as mean to him if I'd known he was an orphan. Quiznak, I was so resentful over how Shiro took him under his wing and how Keith sidled up to him like a sycophant; I didn't realize he didn't even have anyone else. Explains a lot about why he never wanted to get close to people too. Plus the whole being-half-galra-thing explains a lot about the way he acts. And as for me, getting to be the Blue Paladin helped a lot for my self-esteem. I still struggled for a long time though, not feeling like I was really noteworthy enough to be a paladin in the first place.”

“Well,” Romelle replied, offering a small smile. “I imagine it's natural for the best among the best to often feel inadequate by comparison.”

Lance looked up at her in surprise before returning her smile with a grateful one. “Yeah... Thanks Romelle. Anyway, things got better between him and I after Shiro disappeared. Kinda had to – the team was struggling to get by and adjust to our new roles - there wasn't enough time to argue about stupid stuff. And then when he left to join the Blades, it kind of hit me that maybe he was the one that felt like he didn't belong.” He looked back out the view port, contemplating. “But I guess I didn't think too much about it at the time; I was too wrapped up in the Voltron shows and finally getting to be Shiro's right-hand man. Or, well, who we thought was Shiro.” He rubbed a gloved hand over his face. “Quiznak, I feel even more of a jerk.”

She gave his arm a squeeze. “I don't know Keith exceptionally well, but he doesn't seem like the type to hold a grudge when someone tries to improve things. You can't change the past but you can change the future, Lance. This'll be the perfect opportunity to try!”

He grimaced up at her in response. “...You're really not letting me get out of this, are you.”

“Nope!” Romelle replied cheerfully as she stood up. “It would be good for him to hear some comforting words from his right-hand pilot, don't you think?”

Unsure of where his supposed agreement had come into the conversation, the marksman slumped defeated in his chair. “Uh uh,” he acquiesced, grumbling to himself in a lower voice. “Why am I getting a bad feeling about this?”

“I'm sorry,” her eyes narrowed dangerously, her voice frighteningly calm even as the pleasant attitude melted away, “did you say something?”

The edge in her words had him sitting straight in his chair once more. “Nope! Nope, not a word.”

As he had said before, Lance was a simple man who could appreciate a woman and what she could do to him. Especially if that women was 5' 9” and capable of pulling metal doors off of their hinges.

* * *

The dry landscape of the planet the Voltron team had touched down on thirty dobashes later reminded Keith a bit of the land surrounding his childhood home. A soothingly cool wind fluttered through the canyon walls the group had nestled themselves in, gently kicking up the dust beneath their feet and restling the surrounding foliage that grew despite a lack of water. Pidge had discovered a large enough gorge to settle the Lions in, deep enough to hide the war machines but still receiving a moderate amount of daylight from the twin suns above. From there the team leisurely made camp, exhaustion evident in the way each of them moved their limbs.

_Allura had been right,_ Keith regretfully thought. _We should have taken a break days ago. _He needed to be more mindful of his team's needs in the future.

As soon as the group had unpacked, Pidge and Hunk had immediately gotten to work on their own endeavors – Hunk with making dinner and Pidge with running tests on the surrounding plants and dirt to see what could be useful. The Black Paladin had offered to each of them to help in some sort of way, but his offer had been politely declined by both, ending with Hunk handing him a cup of water and sending him to take a rest by the fire. He had sighed but had done what he had been told (really, he hadn't even known what exactly he could have done to help them anyway). And so here he was, nursing a drink while staring blankly into the flames with nothing better to do. At least it kept him from trying to slyly glance at Shiro who was by the base of the Blue Lion chatting with Allura. Keith knew deep down he should apologize to the older man for shutting the call off between them, but he wasn't even sure what he would say. So instead he opted to sit there on the log with his elbows on his knees, his gaze unmoving even as the flames dried out his eyes.

At least if he didn't do anything he couldn't make anything worse.

At some point his eyes became unfocused, the glow of the fire receding as his vision darkened. Once again he thought he could hear a voice echoing faintly in his head, the words garbled and unintelligible. This had been going on for days now; at first he had just written it off as tiredness, but could it be that someone was trying to reach him, to tell him something? Or was it just a figment of his imagination? But it seemed so incessant...

A gentle hand on his shoulder startled him from his stupor. Keith sharply turned to see that the gloved hand belonged to none other than Coran who smiled down at him. “Did I interrupt?”

“Ah- no, you didn't interrupt anything,” Keith stumbled over his words, feeling both relief and guilt that his instinct had first told him it was Shiro. “Did you need something?”

“Not really,” Coran kindly replied. “Might I join you?”

Keith's violet eyes softened. “Of course, Coran. You don't need to ask.”

The orange-mustached man nodded gratefully as he sat down next to him. It was then that Keith noticed the altean had two small, red objects clutched in one hand, not much larger than a baseball.

“I know you like to have your space sometimes; I don't want to intrude.”

He received a shrug in response. “If I want to be alone I can just go somewhere else by myself.”

“Maybe,” Coran acquiesced, “but I would still rather not give you a reason to leave if necessary. Here,” he proffered one of the items in his grasp. “It's a beluvian fruit that we picked up from Xoracil, the last planet we visited.”

The half-galran shook his head slowly. “Not really hungry. Thanks though.”

Coran only gestured the fruit in insistence. “Number 4, you need to keep your strength up. When was the last time you ate?”

Keith opened his mouth to retort, only to shut it when he realized he couldn't give an answer to the question. Sighing, he tentatively took the fruit. “... Thanks.” Taking a bite, he was surprised to find the taste light yet pleasing, the texture airy like a sponge cake. “This is really good.”

The altean only smiled in response before taking a bite out of his own. Keith had expected the normally-exuberant man to begin another conversation, but the other instead seemed satisfied to just sit there in a comfortable silence. Despite his introverted tendencies, Keith couldn't help but be grateful for the company as both of them relaxed by the warmth of the fire.

The peace only lasted so long before it was completely shattered. “Keith!” Came a high pitched call that had him sitting up so sharply in surprise he almost dropped his cup of water, fumbling to catch it before it hit the ground and splattering droplets about himself. By the time he had recovered, the owner of the voice was standing before him, hands on her hips.

“Um...” He stared at her wide-eyed. “Yes?”

Romelle huffed in response. “I thought you said you were going to start training me on hand-to-hand combat. Or did you forget?”

“I... What?” The Black Paladin stuttered, suddenly feeling like everyone in the camp had eyes on them. “I mean, yes, I did say that-”

“So you do remember!” The blonde smiled. “Alright, let's get started.”

“Here? Now?” His brow furrowed in confusion. “I thought we were supposed to be taking a break.” He looked sideways at Coran who only shrugged.

She squinted her eyes at Keith in return, her gaze scrutinizing. “So you're saying you don't want to help me.”

“Well, no, that's not what I meant-”

“Perfect! Then let's get started.” She grabbed one of his hands and easily pulled him to his feet, the motion so quick that he stumbled to catch his balance, his cup finally slipping from his grasp onto the dirt below. “We should grab someone else, too; you're way too good at this kind of thing so I don't stand a chance.”

Keith could only frown in response. “Romelle,” he began with a serious tone, “you know I would never hurt you.”

She brushed off his words as easily as she did one of her pigtails over her shoulder. “All the more reason to have someone else join us since you'll go too easy on me.” Before he could make sense of her logic, Romelle was already turning away, shouting an equally loud “Lance!” across the campsite. The Red Paladin quickly peered up from the supplies he had been opening, his expression one of utter befuddlement. The blonde altean waved him over; the Red Paladin questioningly pointed to himself, to which Romelle sharply nodded. The former wasted no time jogging over to their spot beside the fire.

“What's up?”

“Keith's going to teach me how to be better at hand-to-hand combat. You're coming with us.”

Lance's jaw dropped. “What! Why me?!”

“Because you could use the practice too!” Keith couldn't see her expression but he knew it had to be fierce by the way Lance gulped and then slouched in defeat. He briefly glanced at Keith before turning back to the young woman, giving her a small nod.

“Good.” She tugged on Keith's arm, the force of which was more surprising than rough yet regardless sent him stumbling after her and she began to walk down a nearby path. “Let's go!”

The Black Paladin looked over to his right-hand peer who seemingly was pointedly avoiding eye contact with him, a frown on his face as he stared just a sliver off to the side from where the path was leading them. _What just happened? _Keith thought, completely perplexed by Romelle's suddenly chipper mood and Lance acquiescing for once without further complaint.

So caught up in the sudden turn of events, he didn't notice Shiro carefully watching them depart further into the cliffs.

* * *

Well, hand it to Romelle to pull off a plan, even when it lacked complete subtlety whatsoever.

“Watch your right foot; when you space it too far back it leaves a gap in your defense on the left side. And Lance, you need to be quicker on your feet if you don't want to immediately be grappled. You can't match an altean's strength in hand-to-hand so you'll need to be dexterous instead. Alright, let's try it once more. Reset, and... Begin!”

Eight seconds later Lance was sailing over Romelle's shoulder before landing hard on his back with a resounding _thump_, only to be swiftly flipped onto his front with his arm pinned rather painfully behind him.

Keith couldn't help but break his typical poker face with a sympathetic grimace. “What part of 'be dexterous' didn't you get?”

“Ow, ow, ow – if I haven't been fast on my feet the last six rounds, why do you think I'd start being so now?!” Lance practically cried, slamming his free hand repeatedly into the ground in a desperate tap-out. “Ow, ow, ow - Romelle!!!”

“Whoops, sorry,” Romelle grinned, releasing his arm and not looking the slightest bit apologetic as she moved away to offer him a hand up.

Lance didn't hesitate to accept the aid especially considering all of his limbs felt as stable as jelly. He also didn't hesitate to step away from the altean as quick as he was able the moment he was upright. He irritably looked over at his team lead who was meandering over to where they stood. “Let the record reflect that this is the exact opposite of resting and thus the whole reason we came to this planet.”

“Noted,” Keith calmly quipped back before turning to the golden-haired woman. “For never having fought before, you're really picking up on this fast, Romelle,” the Voltron leader offered. “I know your natural strength gives you an edge but you're also picking up the proper technique in a short amount of time, too.”

She beamed in response before cocking a grin. “I may have wrestled Bandor around once or twice when we were kids.”

“I _did_ wrestle my younger siblings when we were younger and I promise you it doesn't help at all,” Lance groaned as he rolled his right shoulder and stretched his neck to the left. He wouldn't be surprised if she had nearly dislocated it; Romelle seemed to be enjoying all of the practicing they were doing a _bit_ too much. She gently patted him on the back in sympathy.

“Lance -” Keith continued, turning to the Red Paladin, but the younger man cut him off, already knowing what the older was going to say.

“I know: I'm still too slow on my feet, probably because I don't keep my weight centered like you've told me three times before.”

“Actually,” Keith raised a brow and crossed his arms, “I was going to say you've improved quite a bit.”

Well needless to say _that_ got his attention. “Wha- really?”

The half-galran nodded. “You're being more decisive in your actions, relying on instinct and muscle memory instead of overthinking like you tend to do the moment you're not wielding a rifle. That's the first step toward really making the most of what speed you have. Here,” he motioned to the other to step back into the practice space, a little open area they had found nestled between cliff walls beside a small lake surrounded by boulders; there was just enough flat space for the trio to safely work with. Once Lance cautiously followed, Keith moved him like a stiff marionette, twisting his shoulders ever so slightly and putting a slight bend into his left knee. The Black Paladin then strode a few feet away. “This time, when I come at you, use your lowered position to swing underneath my attack and then grab me right here.” He motioned to the right side of his rib cage before taking a defensive position. “Turned as you are it should help you get the leverage you need to complete the throw. Ready?”

“No.”

Keith said nothing more as he ignored Lance's deadpan response and instead charged forward. The marksman could immediately tell that the other wasn't moving as fast as he knew Keith could go, but that didn't mean it was anything to scoff at. Almost instantly Keith was on him, a thrown punch swiftly coming his way. A tick before the attack connected, the Lance ducked underneath the blow and grabbed the spot his team lead had previously indicated, his other hand snatching Keith's wrist. Using his bent knees to dig his weight into the ground and maintain his balance, he used the half-galran's forward momentum and his own leverage to flip Keith easily over his shoulder, slamming the Black Paladin hard onto his back with an “oof!”

For a heavy moment none of them said anything, Lance bewildered that he had actually managed to pull it off, Romelle wondering if her close friend and newly-minted mentor was about to retaliate for the hard hit. Then Keith let out a victorious “ha!” as he rose to his feet, smirking. “See? I told you you were improving.”

“I... wow,” the normally talkative Paladin was for once flabbergasted. A grin slowly etched across his face before he let out a whoop of celebration, punching the air above him. “Yes! Man that just made up for my butt getting handed to me the whole last half hour!” He then groaned and rubbed at his sore back – the adrenaline must finally have been wearing off. “Alright, maybe not completely made up for it. I think I'm done for the day.” The battered man stumbled over to the nearest rocky outcropping, his armor clattering noisily as he dropped more than sat on a sizable boulder. The lake water at Lance's feet looked more inviting than ever; he couldn't wait to get out of his now-sweaty armor. With his elbows on his knees he slumped over, working to catch his ragged breath.

So much for a rest stop - Romelle owed him big for this. Lance had been in the middle of hunting down a pizaol, a kind of caramel-tasting nut they had found two planets ago that had quickly become a Lance-favorite before the altean had dragged him off to the impromptu training session. His stomach was still grumbling in mourning of the lost opportunity for food, but there was no saying no to Romelle once she had her mind set on something.

Speaking of which, she and Keith followed closely behind him, Romelle taking a seat beside her as-of-late traveling companion.“If you want it enough,” Keith started, “then someday hand-to-hand combat will become second nature to you. It just takes time. Remember, patience -”

“-yields focus,” Lance finished, having heard Keith mutter the phrase to himself several times over in the past. Still, maybe there was some value to it considering it seemed to have helped temper Keith's once volatile nature. The Cuban considered his team lead's words carefully before nodding an unspoken thanks. Coming from anyone else and Lance would have suspected they were offering empty compliments to make him feel better, but he knew that Keith was never one for platitudes. It... certainly meant something.

A bit flustered from the unexpected praise from an unexpected source, Lance chose instead to divert the conversation. “Man,” he started, leaning back on his palms. “If this was anything like your training with the Blades, I feel sorry for you. I wouldn't have expected you to be such a good teacher though; did you train a lot of the other recruits?”

Romelle patted on the nearby rock surface in an offer for Keith to sit, yet he instead chose the boulder across from the pair. The Red Paladin barely kept himself from sighing at the self-inflicted distance, but for once chose to say nothing – sometimes the reflex to taunt the other man was still there, and even he knew that riling Keith up would be counterproductive to what Romelle was trying to accomplish.

And then he'd have more to worry about than a few sore body parts.

Keith of course seemed completely oblivious to his thoughts. “No,” he began matter-of-factly. “I was never high enough in the ranks for such a thing; rather, I was always on the receiving end of it. But when my mo- …Krolia and I were on the space whale, there wasn't much else to do besides forage for food or train. It was...” he grimaced slightly, “... a way to distract us from the visions we kept seeing.”

“You mentioned those visions before,” Romelle interjected, cocking her head to the side. “But you never said what they were about.”

The Black Paladin shrugged. “Mostly things about the past, sometimes glimpses of the future. I got to see how my mom and dad met, and that went a long way to helping Krolia and I bond. But then she had to see dad's funeral and I guess...” He steadied himself as his voice wavered ever so slightly. “Well, I had told her he had passed, but I guess it made it real to her that someone wasn't waiting for her back on Earth.”

Romelle pressed her hands to her lips, distraught. “Keith...”

He shook his head to dispel the heaviness. “It's fine; it was a long time ago. I'm getting off track. Anyway, Krolia's a senior in the Blades, not much lower in rank than Kolivan, so she had a lot more experience with training others. I guess I kind of picked up some of it from our sessions together. She is certainly more patient and a better instructor than some of the other trainers, although just as rigorous if not more. You saw what her training sims are like.”

Lance expelled a whistle in admitted appreciation. “I knew the Blades took their order super seriously, but man just thirty dobashes of that was more than enough for me; I don't even want to think what it would be like to have to do this day over day. I mean, Shiro had mentioned how brutal your trial had been..”

The moment the previous Black Paladin's name had left his lips, Lance caught the frown Keith gave and it suddenly became as clear as day to the former just what the root of the latter's problem was.

W_ell,_ he thought,_ at least this won't take long._

In fact, now that he considered it further, it really shouldn't have been a surprise. Lance had noticed the way Keith had been shooting Shiro side-glances (and even the side-glance that Shiro had given in return as they were leaving) and looking back the sharpshooter hadn't seen the two interact in weeks. Anyone could have easily seen how despondent the Blade had been at the campfire, yet Shiro never went over to talk to him once since they had landed. Not that Lance blamed him, mind you. He wasn't about to pass judgment when he didn't know the details.

All he did know was that if Hunk had suddenly gone dark on him, he'd very likely be in the same sort of mood.

“It is what it is, I guess,” Keith shrugged off as impassively as he could before motioning to stand up. “That's enough practice for one day; we should probably head back.” Lance cursed in his head, brain buzzing as he quickly sought for a reason to keep them all from leaving just yet.

Luckily Romelle had him covered. “Wait!” she shouted loud enough to startle both boys, Keith freezing in a half-standing position that didn't look comfortable whatsoever for his knees. She practically skittered across the short distance between them to slide into the space next to Keith, grabbing his hand and pulling it (and him) back down to the rock. “Let's just relax here a little longer, ok? I mean, we're hardly ever planet-side and I spent so long on just the colony...” _Give the woman her Oscar_, Lance chuckled inwardly as he watched the blonde make the most doe-eyed look he'd every seen and bat her lashes Keith's way. Lance didn't think he'd _ever_ seen Keith flustered, but man was it worth it to see the normally-stoic individual brighten to an alarming shade of red and uncomfortably look away.

“Ok! Sure!” He gritted out. “Just stop with the face already!” She shot a grin and a wink to Lance who half-heartedly smiled in return.

“Sooooo Keith,” Romelle began as she made ripples in the water beside them with the tip of her shoe. “We haven't had a chance to catch up since we left the Xoracil space. How have you been?” Her casual tone was so forced it hardly seemed legit, and Lance wanted to groan and wipe a hand down him face. _Smooth, Romelle._

However, either Keith was just his typical oblivious self or he chose not to comment on it, electing instead to nonchalantly shrug with his gaze fixed over the body of water to the foliage on the other side, watching the short leaves softly billow. “Fine.”

_And now we have challenge number two,_ thought Lance with a sigh, _getting Mr. Oh-So-Talkative to actually talk. _Curbing his tongue, he instead looked to the sky to see just how close the twin suns were to setting. Seriously, he could have been on his third pizaol and half a nap by now.

“Just fine?” Romelle pressed, nearly climbing over the half-galran to stick her face into his line of sight. “Nothing of interest to report?”

Keith raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at her, confused. “Romelle, we've been stuck together as a group for weeks now. Everything I've done you've been a part of.”

Yet the blonde remained undeterred. Lance just looked between the two like he was watching a tennis match. “So you're saying nothing has changed? Nothing at all?”

The swordsman opened his mouth to respond but then paused before shaking his head. “Nothing.”

“Because you're acting a bit like something _has_ changed.”

“Romelle...”

“And just right now you stalled like you might have had something to say.”

Keith gaped like a fish out of water before resolutely shutting his jaw and looking away again. Romelle gently put a hand on his bicep so he could feel it through his uniform. He glanced down at it as she continued, her voice soft. Gone was the fake edge to her tone, leaving only sincerity in its wake. “Keith, you know you can tell me anything, right? You've done so much for me; you and Krolia are practically my new family. I'll forever be grateful, so if I can help you shoulder any of your troubles, I'll gladly do so.” She squeezed his arm as watched as his ambivalent visage beginning to crack. “I care about you so much – we all do.”

The Black Paladin slowly looked up at her face, scrutinizing her expression before turning to Lance to do the same. The latter hoped he was emanating an air of honesty. Romelle was right; they all did care, even himself, even if he wasn't exactly the best at showing it. Whatever his face showed must have passed the test as Keith sighed in defeat, slumping into the rock face behind him.

“I don't even know how to say this...” He started slowly, his expression suddenly tired. Romelle patiently waited beside him.

_Here it comes, _thought Lance.

“It's been going on for a while now...”

_Now just a quick chat about relationships, and then sweet pizaols, you are mine._

“...I think I'm going insane.”

_So delightfully nutty and sweet- wait what?_

When Keith didn't continue, Romelle placed a hand carefully on his knee. “...Keith?” She gently encouraged, frowning. He looked at it idly before continuing, his expression falling further.

“I... I'm pretty sure I've started hallucinating. Hearing things, seeing things that aren't actually there.” Keith chuckled humorlessly to himself. “Yeah, I'm pretty sure my picture should be next to the definition of crazy in the dictionary.”

Okay, out of the list of things Lance had expected to hear, that was _not_ one of them. He figured it was his turn to speak up, having sat on the sidelines for so long. True to what Romelle had said (despite her forceful approach), they were both here to help their team lead and friend, and he wasn't about to go back on that. Lance slowly approached, coming to stand just in front of the other man to tentatively ask, “what sort of things?”

Keith looked up at him, his expression one of slight surprise before turning his gaze toward the distance. “...Not good things. Planets at war, villages being destroyed, innocent people getting slaughtered.” His eyes turned unfocused and glassy, his tone lethargic. “I keep having these dreams that don't make any sense; sometimes it's these creatures that chase me down halls and tunnels; other times they're some sort of shadowy figures that keep doing... something... to me. I don't know what, except that it's excruciatingly painful. I thought at first that maybe it was just the stress finally getting to me, but,” - he gritted his teeth, the palms resting against his thighs clenching into shaking fists - “I've never _seen_ anything like them before! Even with all of the aliens we've come across they're nothing like the monsters that attack me. And the place with the shadows – it's like a great hall for a cult, but I've never seen banners or altars like those in my entire life!” His rising voice was definitely a testament to how rattled he must have felt.

Romelle swallowed as she carefully wrapped her hand around one of his own, gently working the fist open to intertwine their fingers. It made him relax ever so slightly, but Lance counted that as a win. “What about the things you said you were hearing?”

The Blade shrugged a shoulder. “Sometimes it's ambient noises, like buzzing or crackling. Other times it's like whispers, but they're so quiet I can't make out what they're saying.” He worried his lip. “At least I think they're whispers?”

“And how long has this been happening?” Lance tried to ask calmly, hoping his question didn't come across as interrogating.

Keith said nothing at first, only offering the markman a wary glance, but just as Lance was about to say something further the former responded, his voice uncertain. “I think some time around when Mom and Kolivan left. I don't know, really; it's hard to tell whether the things I'd been hearing at the time were real or not.”

None of them said anything for a moment. Then, Romelle released his hand only to wrap her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a comfortable side embrace. “Thank you for sharing that with us; I can't imagine it was easy.”

The half-galran gave a wry smile in return, leaning ever-so-slightly into the blonde. “Mom asked before she left that I try to be more open with you all.”

“...You know,” Lance began thoughtfully as he placed his hands on his hips and shifted his weight, “you've already come a really far way on that; you're a lot different than the pre-space-whale Keith I knew.” He frowned. “Or thought I knew, anyway.”

Keith tilted his head quizzically, but Lance kept going, “It's probably no surprise I thought you were a complete jerk before.” The fact that neither did Keith contest it nor show any sort of emotional reaction to the words flooded Lance with guilt. Lance He himself to keep eye contact even as he drifted outside of his comfort zone. “You came out of nowhere and suddenly you were blowing away all of the records and getting everyone's attention. And then when people tried to get close to you, you pushed them away, all of them but Shiro. It was like you couldn't be bothered with anyone else except the best of the best.” The Black Paladin said nothing, giving Lance the chance to say his piece even though the growing vexation was clear on his face.

Lance sighed, lowering his head, his gaze on the floor by their feet. “I know now, have known for a while really, that that wasn't the case. Sure, you have moments where you can sometimes get cocky, but it's never been about insulting or putting down others. I know now that you didn't push others away because you thought you were better than them, but that you were dealing with your own problems. But back then, I didn't, or maybe even wouldn't, see that. And it made it easier to pin my problems on you.”

The frustration on Keith's face evaporated leaving behind only a troubled expression. “Lance, I-”

The younger man held up a hand. “Please, let me just get this out.” Keith paused before closing his mouth and nodding, patiently waiting as Lance steeled himself to carry on. “You know I've got a big family; even if you haven't heard me talk about them, you had to have seen them when we did the bonding exercises. I'm one of the youngest, which meant that growing up it was hard to do anything to stand out that my brothers and sisters hadn't already done. I'm not even the first to get into the Garrison; my older sister Veronica has been an analyst there for a while – she was in Shiro's graduating class. I figured that being a fighter pilot would definitely be something noteworthy.”

He shook his head sadly. “But then I only made cargo class. Not really a noteworthy thing compared to a command center analyst. Well, I don't know if you remember, but you and I were in the same testing group. I guess that's about the time I got it into my head that you and I were rivals – if I couldn't be better than you, then at least being a competitor was the next best thing. Even if I really wasn't – I was in denial bad and it was only when you didn't remember me that I let that fact sink in, and of course I went off and took it out on you.”

“I'm sorry, Lance.”

The Red Paladin snapped up to look at his team lead in disbelief. “What? Why are you apologizing?! I'm trying to apologize to you! I'm saying it wasn't your fault!”

Keith shook his head even as Romelle gave his shoulders a comforting squeeze. “It was a little my fault; I could have been a nicer person. I was too wrapped up in my own issues to be considerate of anyone else's.”

Lance threw his arms dramatically up in air. “Maybe so, but it still didn't warrant all of that!”

The corner of Keith's mouth quirked up in amusement while Romelle looked back and forth between the two with great interest. “Well then, maybe I'm sorry that you had to go through all of that. It sounds like it's been pretty painful.”

“Ugh,” Lance groaned, wiping a hand over his face, “you're even better at apologizing than I am. _Quiznak._”

The Black Paladin had the grace to look sheepish. “Sorry, I swear I'm not trying to make light of what you're saying. I do appreciate it. It's just that,” he gave a knowing look to Romelle, “I didn't pick up on all of this sooner and I probably would have if I had tried talking to you more,” he looked back to Lance, “plus I haven't been the best at making you feel valued or at encouraging you.”

Lance shrugged. “Maybe. But Keith, people show affection in different ways. Maybe you're not the best at showing it in the little ways, but I know if any one of us were in trouble, even me, you'd be grabbing a ship and flying it solo behind enemy lines to help us.” He smiled ruefully, reminiscing. “The way you went after Shiro when Haggar took over... You didn't hesitate for a second, even when it meant going alone into a wormhole where we had no idea what was on the other side. And somehow by yourself you managed bring him back.” The markman's gaze sharpened and he gave a matter-of-fact and piercing look that cut the Black Paladin to his core. “Keith, I've been looking up to Shiro since the day I found out the Garrison even existed. Next to Hunk and Allura he's one of my favorite people on this team. And he's safe because of you. No matter what happens, I'll always be grateful. And you've been having our backs ever since you returned to the team; I think it's time we started having yours too, and I don't just mean on the battlefield.” A sheepish grin spread itself across his lips. “I know it's a bit late to really start over – there's too much history behind us – but maybe we can try?” He held out an open hand, an unpresuming offer, and patiently waited to see how it would be received.

There were no words that Keith could bring himself to say, so stunned by the honesty in the admission. Then again, words were never Keith's way anyway, favoring action over talk. And so he cautiously reached out to grasp the Red Paladin's forearm – a startling reminder to Lance that his team lead had spent the last few years among the galra. Lance was surprised to see a suspicious glistening in the other man's eyes as he pulled him up from his seated position. For a horrifying second Lance wondered if Keith was actually about to cry.

Until Keith's watery irises sharpened like a cat's.

And then Lance, much to his dismey, found himself sailing through the air for the umpteenth time that quintant as Keith effortlessly flung him to the side using just a single arm. The indignation only lasted a tick before the Black Paladin had pivoted in place, lunging to tackle Romelle toward the opposite direction, just in time for _something_ to crash into the spot they had just occupied. Something large.

Flabbergasted, the Red Paladin scrambled to stand as he took in the beast that he hadn't even heard approaching – some sort of six legged, furred creature that was a cross between a goat and a long-tailed hyena and the size of a rhino to boot. It screeched in vicious anger, turning toward the culprit that had allowed its prey to escape capture.

Keith wasted no time pulling Romelle to her feet in a staggering run before it charged once more. “Romelle!” He called, giving her a gentle but firm push away. “Split up! It can't chase us all!” She nodded, taking off in a different direction as the monster remained fixated on its more dangerous quarry.

Lance stumbled to his feet, unleashing his bayard in the form of his assault rifle. In one fluid motion he aimed and laid down some suppressing fire in hopes of distracting the creature.

It worked.

Despite each shot hitting and causing the creature to hiss in pain, the barrage hadn't slowed it in the slightest; the resulting rage only seemed to fuel it further. It roared as it galloped toward him and it was then he realized that he hadn't found better ground before drawing its attention; flanked by water and cliffside, there wasn't enough space on in either way to flee before the beast was upon him. Still Lance continued to fire even as the distance between them grew shorter and shorter, paying that the volley would be enough to bring it down.

“Hey! Blesuvenuk oct rae'levin!”

Even though the shout in altean had been rather sudden, it was the stone the size of a beach ball colliding with the monster's back that got both it and Lance's attention. There Romelle stood on top of a small mountain of boulders, likely the remains from a canyon-side cave in, another weighty rock in her clutches. She wasted no time hurting it at the beast who took the hit literally head on, squealing in pain. It pivoted on a dime, the swipe of its lengthy tail catching Lance off guard and sending him flying into the water with a cry before it skittered toward Romelle. Her face was stern and confidant as it approached, not even bothering to pick up another stone as she faced her adversary down. Right as it was about to reach her, Keith, who had stealthily scaled the canyon walls, jettisoned off the rock side with the aid of his blaster pack, landing soundly on the creature's neck. He immediately put the monster in a headlock, using one of his arms to block the alien's sight.

Meanwhile the Red Paladin, soaked and rather disgruntled from his impromptu swim, had trudged up from the lake depths just in time to see the blinded monster flailing in anger as it tried to shake its adversary from its back. Lance rushed back into the fray, transforming his assault gun into the sniper rifle he was growing more and more fond of, taking aim and waiting for an opportunity for a headshot.

“Keith! Hold 'em steady for me!”

“Lance! -huff- wait!” Keith called back even as he was being viciously flung around, struggling to keep his grip. “Aim for the canyon wall on the right! -huff- Where the cracks meet!”

Puzzled, Lance looked between the spot that the Black Paladin had pointed out and then back to creature. The way it had turned, he had a perfect shot...

But instead he quickly set his sights on the weakness in the wall and fired, the shot loud and echoing. It struck the wall which tremored before part of it collapsed, a battery of rocks and debris slamming into the ground in such a deafening way Lance's ears were already ringing. The landslide had just barely missed the creature, yet it succeeded in startling the brute so much that it cried in fear. Keith immediately relinquished his hold, gracefully tumbling off the back of the monster and landing in a firm crouch; eye-sight returned, the animal wasted no time in rushing away as fast as it could.

Romelle slid down the rockside as Lance jogged to rejoin his teammates. “I can't believe that worked!” Lance laughed in relief, working to catch his breath as he came down from an adrenaline-high. He holstered his bayard with a mere thought. “Talk about a gamble; shooting it would have been a much surer deal.”

“Maybe,” Keith shrugged, dusting himself off. “But there wasn't a need to kill it – it was probably just prowling its territory. Territory that _we're_ encroaching on.”

Lance raised an unimpressed eyebrow in response. “Didn't you wipe out a slew of native sabertooth lizard-like things with the Black Lion when we all got stranded after that first fight with Zarkon?”

The half galran flushed, crossing his arms in defiance. “Tha- that was different!” He stammered, noticeably flustering even as he scowled. “Shiro was about to die and we were heavily outbumbered!”

Unconvinced, Lance almost gave a knee-jerk quip in reply before simply laughing it off with an amused shake of his head. “Fine! Fine. I guess it makes sense now why you were sitting away from us, so you could keep lookout in the other direction. But Pidge said this place was safe!”

“No, she said there weren't any enemies,” Romelle cocked her head with a hand on her hip. “Big difference. She probably meant that there weren't any sentient hostiles.” She rolled her eyes at the Black Paladin. “I'd chide you for being too much on edge even on an unoccupied planet, but I guess it just paid off.”

“I grew up in a desert out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by miles of nature. You either learn to respect what it can do to you or you pay the price.”

“Ain't that the truth,” Lance chuckled, holstering his bayard to run a hand through his drying hair. “The beaches by Cuba look serene but there are some nasty jellyfish that can do a number on you, and they're nowhere near as big as what we just fought!”

Romelle perked up. “Ah, the jellyfish! We talked about those before.”

“Yup.” Lance enunciated the word with a pop. “Which reminds me, Romelle: what the heck did you say to the monster earlier? It didn't translate.”

She scoffed. “I implied that its mother had been visited by numerous suitors of ill standing, if you get my drift.”

“'Get my drift'?” Keith sighed while Lance gave a bark of laughter. “That's it, you're not riding with Lance anymore.”

“Oh the heck she is! Romelle, can you teach me how to say that?!”

“Sure,” she winked causing Keith to rub at his temple. “I just wouldn't recommend saying it in front of Allura; it's not meant for polite company. Coran would probably get a kick out of it though.”

The two laughed further as Keith shook his head fondly. “Alright you two, we should start heading back before it gets too dark. Who knows what sort of things come out at night here.” He turned to lead them back to camp, but paused, remembering something. “Oh, and Lance?”

The Red Paladin perked up. “Yeah?”

Keith offered him a small smile. “Nice shooting, sharpshooter.”

“Thanks,” Lance grinned back as they started down the path. Never had Lance heard Keith use the nickname (which, to be fair, the only one who ever did was Shiro) and it admittedly sent a wave of warmth through him. The acknowledgment alone was nice enough but the fact that it had also come from someone that Lance honestly looked up to, almost as much as he did to Shiro, was definitely a bonus.

Though it would be a cold day in hell before he _ever_ admitted that out loud.

* * *

The suns had nearly set by the time Keith, Romelle and Lance had closed in on the campsite. Full of mirth, the trio had joked and laughed and shared stories on the way back, the two humans regaling the altean with commentary about the Garrison especially when it came to the cafeteria food. The closer they got to the campsite, however, the more Keith's expression became grim and the less he engaged in the stories. Lance could easily tell there was something on his mind and for once he didn't need to prod to get an answer.

“...We never finished our conversation from before,” Keith uncomfortably admitted, his eyes trained on the ground in front of him.

“No, we didn't,” came Romelle's casual acknowledgement, her laughter from Lance's previous story politely disappating.

“What happens now?” he questioned, refusing to make eye contact with the other two.

Romelle and Lance shared a look before turning back to their friend. “Well,” Lance began calmly, “that depends on you. What do you want to happen next?”

The answer seemed to surprise the older man causing him to finally look up; Lance guessed that Keith was probably expecting the two to push him to tell the others or to out him to the team. The marksman couldn't hold that against Keith; trust takes time to build after all.

The half-galran's eyes slipped back down to the turf below. “... I don't know. I should probably step down as leader, shouldn't I? I'm too much of a liability in battle now.” It was clear that Keith was struggling to keep his voice impassive.

“I think the last thirty dobashes just disproved that,” chided Lance.

Keith just shook his head as they turned around a bend, the camp coming into sight from a well-off distance. “The whole sim was a screw up because of me. I couldn't keep it together; I started seeing things in the middle of the fight. What if that happens in a real battle? We saw just how much of a mess I was when I couldn't keep it together back when I first took over as Black Paladin.”

Romelle raised a questioning brow at Lance who only sighed. “I think that's a little unfair to yourself, Keith. And I think we were a little unfair to you back then, too. It was a lot of responsibility that just got dumped on your shoulders, responsibility you didn't even want might I add, and with Allura and I both in new Lions you didn't have an experienced team to fall back on. And... you were grieving.” He shot the Black Paladin a sympathetic glance. “That was a lot, and that was also a long time ago.”

The look he received in return was one of quiet appreciation. “...Maybe. But it still doesn't discount the fact that mistakes can cost someone their life.”

“True, but that's not your own responsibility to bear; it's on all of us to watch out for each other. Keith,” Lance continued earnestly, stopping to turn and face him. “Don't be afraid to fall back on us. I know it's hard but try to trust that we'll cover for you when you inevitably slip up. You don't have to be perfect to be the head of Voltron.”

Keith watched him with a soft, calculating look before slowly nodding once. “Okay... I will. Thanks, Lance.”

“Anytime, buddy!” The Cuban gave him a hard pat of the back before they took off once more, this time in a peaceful silence.

They were almost back to the camp when Keith broke the quiet again, this time his tone a bit more confident. “I should probably tell the others what's been going on, shouldn't I.” It was hardly a question and more of a reluctant statement.

“Well,” Romelle commented matter-of-factly. “Do you want to tell the others about what you've been experiencing?”

“Not really...”

“Then don't!” She threw an arm around Keith's shoulders, pulling him into a side-hug that he didn't shy away from even as it made the walk awkward. “It's personal; you're allowed to have some privacy! What matters most is that you told _someone_. We'll get this figured out, Keith. I promise. Let's start by talking with Coran tomorrow; he's got a lot of experience with things _and _from what I've heard he's good about keeping things confidential when you need him to.”

“And if Quiznack really hits the fan in battle,” Lance began (“I still don't think you're using that word correctly, Lance,” muttered Keith),“then as your right-hand man I'll cover for you! I promise. Plus we always have Shiro to help lead if we really need him to.”

Keith said nothing at first, contemplating the words, He then nodded once more in response, the motion more energetic this time around. “Okay.”

“In the meantime,” Lance continued. “Not that I don't want Romelle in my Lion anymore, but I think it would be a good idea if she rides with you for a while. Being alone in the Lion by yourself sucks and it's good to have a friend nearby when you're going through some stuff. I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have Hunk, that's for sure.”

“Just admit it,” Romelle playfully scoffed, hands akimbo. “You're just looking for reason to kick me out of Red.”

Lance jokingly grinned back. “You know it!” In retaliation, the blonde lunged and put the lanky man in a headlock, raking her knuckles across the top of his head playfully as they both laughed. Keith only chuckled at the silly display, crossing his arms and shaking his head amused.

By the time the three finally reached the campsite, it was obvious that everyone else was getting ready to turn in for the night or already had. Most the supplies had been packed and the campfire was on its way out, its embers doing little to provide light in the darkening setting. Luckily the moons above provided more than enough to see, washing the ground with a gentle silver glow. Hunk was apparently the only one left outside of the Lions; he waved from where he stood near the crates of supplies between Red and Black, packing up the last of the prepared rations.

“Hey there!” The Yellow Paladin called as the three approached. He closed up the crate he had opened before brushing off his hands. “Did you guys have fun with your training?”

“Ugh, no! Of course not!” Lance whined, motioning to Keith via a thumb over his shoulder. “Mr. Knowledge-or-Death over here worked us over the entire time; we never got a break once! My bruises are gonna have bruises.”

Keith looked mildly offended and was ready to retort in his own defense, but paused when he saw Lance shoot him a candid look over his shoulder, giving him a wink and a grin. Catching on, he instead shrugged nonchalantly and deadpanned, “you wouldn't have gotten bruises if you had just managed to flip Romelle even once.” This time, Lance's affronted expression was genuine, but before he could say anything Romelle had pounced on the lanky man, draping her arms over his padded shoulders.

“Awww don't worry, Lancey-wancey, you'll best me someday,” she smirked as she pinched his cheek, resulting in a sputter of outrage.

“Lancey-wancey!?”

Hunk chuckled at their antics. “Well, you guys missed dinner, but I saved some for you each to take into the Lions.” He pulled out two bags, one significantly larger than the other, and gestured the smaller towards Keith.

“Uh, actually...” Keith uncomfortably began.

“Actually I'll be switching to Black so we'll need the larger bag,” Romelle chimed in, not-quite gently snagging the bigger carrier much to Hunk's surprise. She slinked up to Hunk's side and stage-whispered loudly. “Gotta give Lance some space so he can have a little privacy with Allura, if-you-know-what-I-mean.” Hunk straight up giggled while Keith wondered if he was about to witness Lance finally pull off the Xianolen throw on Romelle; he certainly looked outraged enough to do so.

The Red Paladin coughed away a sputter before glaring at her, a hand on his hip as the other took the smaller bag of food from Hunk. “If you're all done having fun at my expense, why don't you come get your stuff so I can finally get my beauty sleep.”

Keith reached over and carefully plucked his and Romelle's dinner bag from her hands. “Here, I'll bring this back to the Lion while you get your things.” He knew better than to offer help; she'd only sock him in the arm if he so much as implied she couldn't do it by herself, even if he didn't mean to. As Lance and Romelle strode away and up Red's ramp, Lance's hands clasped behind his head as he tried to ignore the altean's prodding and teasing at his side, Keith turned toward Hunk. “Sorry we missed dinner; one of the native creatures decided to drop in on us. Is there anything I can do to help clean up?”

The Yellow Paladin smiled but shook his head. “Aw, don't worry about it, and nah, I'm pretty much done; the only thing I need you to do is eat all of your dinner.” Keith laughed with a muttered “okay, Krolia” that got Hunk chortling as well before he sobered. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, whatever that creature was, it wasn't too hard to fend off. Lance unfortunately got the worst of it, but despite his complaining, I think he'll be alright.”

Hunk finished covering the crates with a weighted tarp before turning back. “That's good, but that's not quite what I meant. How are you doing in general?”

“Oh...” Keith paused, unsure of what he wanted to say. Had Hunk picked up on something? Was this going to be interrogation number two? “I'm fine.”

“Ok,” The other man accepted. He took a moment to gauge his team lead before he continued, “but if you're ever not fine, you know you can talk to me, right? I'll be just a Lion-comm-call away.”

“I... yeah, of course. Thanks Hunk.”

Rather than pushing the conversation, Hunk replied, “No problem. Hey, do you think the next time we're planet-side, you and I could hang out a bit? I know we weren't super close or anything before, but I figure now that you're back we could maybe make up for lost time?”

A warm smile spread across Keith's face, softening his eyes. “Sure.” Now more than ever he was immensely grateful for Hunk's skill at being empathetic. It's not that he _didn't_ want to tell Hunk about what was going on per se, but he was way too tired to try and navigate another difficult conversation. Speaking of tired... “I'm going to get some sleep; I'll see you in the morning.”

Just after the Black Paladin started up his Lion's ramp, Hunk called out from behind, “Make sure to eat your dinner!” Keith simply offered a wave of acknowledgment over his shoulder, rolling his eyes and grinning as he entered the warship.

* * *

After eating a late dinner with Romelle and helping her get settled in Krolia's old lodgings in the cargo bay, Keith had bid her good night and retired to his makeshift bedroom. Although the Lions were designed with the sole purpose of being weapons, they still offered essential amenities for their pilots. There was a small cabin that fitted a twin-sized cot with drawers for apparel underneath. Poor Kosmo could hardly fit in the space and so instead often times elected to rest right outside Keith's door. Adjacent to the bedroom and accessible via sliding door was arguably little more than a water closet, housing a toilet, a square (and honestly claustrophobia-inducing) shower, and a washbasin with a cabinet for toiletries below and a rectangular mirror above. Both rooms had been dusty when he had first entered them; Keith had never had reason to use either room before and he was pretty certain neither had Shiro back when he had been the Black Paladin. There hadn't even been bedding on the cot; luckily Keith had found blankets and pillows in the drawers below, crisp in their unopened packaging.

He considered himself lucky – after all, it wasn't like they had had time to do laundry before turning the castleship into a bomb. He'd rather not sleep in the same sheets Zarkon had once used.

The Black Paladin continued to brush his teeth over the wash basin, once again grateful that the Lion had a limited amount of water that it was capable of filtering for reuse; he hadn't exactly been looking forward to using alien-planet lake water to swish toothpaste out of his mouth. Spitting the liquid out, he rinsed his toothbrush before drying it with a nearby face towel and replacing it in the cabinet below. Drying his hands, he looked to his comm unit nestled on the toilet tank. “22:73” the device read in Intergallactic Standard time. It wasn't too late; maybe this time he'd get some real sleep. Quizack, he was so exhausted...

Draping the towel on its nearby bar, Keith leaned onto the wash basin, both hands clutching at opposite edges, and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He knew he looked terrible, a sort of unhealthy pallor with bruised shadows growing beneath his eyes. A movement without a decent night of sleep would do that to a man. The half-galran had no idea how Shiro managed it; he knew the latter hadn't been sleeping well since Kerberos and at least for the time he flew with Keith in Black it had been no different. Yet the man never once showed his exhaustion, always ready for action, practically glowing with charisma and energy.

Keith could picture him even now, how tall and proud he stood for his pictures for the Kerberos expedition, the way he'd stand on the bridge of the castleship with an air of confidence that inspired the team, and how he joined alongside the group during the fight with Macidus despite being weaponless, never one to run away from a battle no matter how much the odds were stacked against him. Even with Keith and Allura as heads of Voltron and the Coalition respectively, Shiro was still a leader among the team to be reckoned with, still offering guidance, the silver hair only adding to his already-significant allure.

The Black Paladin sighed, head dropping. Keith missed him so much. So, so quiznacking much.

It was so selfish, he knew; it was obvious from how Shiro had pulled away from Keith that what he needed was space and the half-galran was trying his hardest to honor that wish. Except... he really didn't need to try. Truthfully, Shiro was managing it all on his own, the way he wouldn't directly interact with Keith in the group chats, or how he would always surround himself with the other Voltron members when they would land planet-side, chatting with them like nothing had changed, never sitting alone or unengaged in conversation. In fact, now that Keith thought on it it was suddenly obvious to him that given the way Shiro would still interact with the others like nothing was different, it was only _Keith_ Shiro wanted the distance from.

And it stung like poison in his veins, painful and suffocating.

“Will you ever talk to me again, I wonder?” He murmured, his vision suddenly blurry. “Are we still even friends?

“...Were we ever in the first place?”

He wanted to believe it, wanted to believe there had been something more between them than just a mentor guiding a cadet. Maybe that's why Shiro had wanted space – he had seen his job of growing Keith as a leader done and now he was ready to move on, become detached from his 'obligation'.

Or maybe Keith had ruined it all when he confessed to Shiro that he loved him. In the end it hadn't done anything anyway; he should have just kept his mouth shut.

His grip on the wash basin creaked before he forced himself to take a breath and relax. Lack of sleep was definitely getting to him if he was having these dark kind of thoughts. It had been a long time since he felt that way (since his dad had died and the first foster family had returned him) and Keith knew deep down that he had outgrown the belief that everyone was out to hurt him, to abandon him. Shiro had been his first friend, in a time of his life where he otherwise had _no_ friends, and so yeah, it made sense why it would hurt so much if that friendship was suddenly gone.

Except it _wasn't_ his only friendship. Not anymore.

Not with the way Hunk had made sure he ate dinner, keeping something aside for the three of them. Or how Romelle would put her arm around him, clutching him so closely sometimes it nearly bruised. And then there was Lance of all people who had lent an ear and offered a kind word, and then kept Keith's story secret from his best friend who he notoriously told _everything_ to.

Keith leaned his head back, taking another breath before exhaling, letting go of the pain, of the bad thoughts. No matter what the truth was, no matter what would happen with his friendship with Shiro, Keith was no longer alone. He had people supporting him, giving him strength when he struggled, helping him stand up and keep going when he needed it most. And maybe, underneath it all, Shiro was still one of them. Maybe Keith could do for Shiro what Romelle and Lance had done for him, to take the chance and offer a shoulder rather than keep his distance out of fear of abandonment. Maybe that's what Shiro needed most - for Keith to take the first step.

The Black Paladin opened his eyes and stared at his reflection who stared back, violet irises intense with conviction. Tomorrow evening when the team would be winding down for the quintant, Keith would talk to Coran about what he had been experiencing, and then he would reach out to Shiro and make sure he was okay and see if there was anything he could do to help. It didn't matter what the truth of their relationship was, if there was even one to begin with; it was the right thing to do and Shiro deserved it. And no matter what happened, no matter what the truth really was, in the end, it would be okay. He was going to be okay.

A smile spread across Keith's lips, and his reflection smiled back. It was a soft look, a sort of peace he hadn't felt in a long while.

And then the grin turned wicked, teeth growing into vicious fangs, skin turning gaunt and sickly, the purple of his irises glowing magenta and encompassing the whites of his eyes before fading into emerald. He watched transfixed in horror, unable to look away as noxious-green wisps of energy slithered like snakes across the demonic mockery of himself, watched as his reflection suddenly turned enraged and shrieked like a banshee before slamming a spindly-clawed hand into the mirror.

The glass erupted into shards.

Keith screamed as the eruption knocked him back into the wall behind him, dazing him even as the shards tore across his skin. He slid to the ground, rushing to cover his head with bleeding arms even as bits and pieces of mirror rained down upon him, tinkling as they collided and danced across the floor. Everything came to a standstill once the last shard stopped moving, the only sound Keith's urgent panting.

He heard the footsteps, heard the door slid open with a cry of “Keith!” but did not move, even when Romelle continued with a curse, “oh spirits... Kosmo, I need my boots!” There was a staticy hum of teleportation, once, twice, and then Romelle was hastily pulling her shoes on and carefully tip toeing into the bathroom, the soles crunching the delicate glass below. Kosmo, unable to fit in the closet-sized room, was left whining from the doorway, watching intently as the blonde altean kneeled by her friend's side.

She slowly reached out with a tentative hand to touch Keith's shoulder. “...Keith?” She asked softly, “What happened?” Her heart broke when he finally looked up to her, lowering his bloody arms to reveal wide, glistening eyes, his face marred with cuts. He gaped, saying nothing, his whole body shaking as he hyperventilated. “Oh, Keith...” Romelle ignored the glass as she sat the rest of the way onto the floor and pulled him almost into her lap, wrapping her arms around his trembling form. “It happened again, didn't it.” It wasn't a question.

Struggling to swallow, finally catching his breath, Keith barely nodded. Romelle only clutched him closer, resting her cheek ontop of his head, caring little for the crimson that was now staining her nightclothes. “It's okay,” she whispered fervently, her voice strong despite how rattled she felt. “You're okay. You're not crazy. I'm here. You're not crazy. I promise we'll get this figured out. As soon as we can get some privacy tomorrow we'll talk with Coran; I know he can help. I won't leave you - I promise.” He kept his bleeding arms to his chest but pressed his face into her shoulder before giving one final nod. In return, she pulled him closer as if to squeeze away the fear.

It did nothing to stop the shaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is chapter is long overdue. Thanks for your patience; unfortunately my 2020 got off to a rough start where up until now the pandemic has honestly been the least of my worries. Tl;dr - my baby rabbit suddenly got sick and passed away and I had two serious health concerns come up. But everything is alright now :) Also pinch-hitted for a gift exchange (check out "You, the Only Gift I Need") and then admittedly tried my hand at writing a Twitter thread ("You're Not Alone") so that last bit is on me. I am also slowly editting the existing chapters as I post new ones to clean them up a bit. Anyway hopefully this extra long chapter makes up for it!
> 
> I'm a lot happier with how this chapter came out in the end; the first draft had felt like a rush to just get some key plot points out and get on to the next part. While I'm *definitely* eager for the next chapter (it was one of the first scenes I thought about when coming up with this fic), I liked how a lot of the scenes in this chapter unfolded. Lance deserves real character development and Romelle deserves the spotlight. 
> 
> Come help me support other content creators on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Omnidolor), or to chat about fandom or writing.


	5. Chapter 5

The crinkling of his aramid-fiber gloves was driving Romelle insane.

  
  


Not because she was annoyed that Keith had been unconsciously flexing his grip around the Black Lion's shifter handles for the better half of the morning. It was just the fact that it was the only noise she could hear besides the quiet thrum of the Lion; because it was deafening in the uncomfortable silence that had settled between the two.

  
  


Because it was a constant reminder of how poorly the previous night had gone.

  
  


_It took dobashes that felt like vargas for Keith to stop panicking. The entire time Romelle clutched him tightly as if to ward off whatever demons were plaguing him. Broken mirror lay strewn around them and across the bathroom floor, their sharp edges glinting a malicious sparkle. A soft whine from the doorway caught her attention; she twisted just enough to see the telelupus standing there with puffy, purple towels clutched in his mouth._

  
  


“_Thank you,” she murmured gratefully, carefully extracting herself from Keith who had finally gone from petrified tremoring to a limp stupor. Romelle gently plucked the towels from the wolf's jaws and gave him a quick pet on the head in appreciation. Kosmo watched on as she used one of the towels like a duster to sweep the loose mirror pieces into a pile behind the toilet so that the bathroom was safe to walk once more. _

  
  


_When she was done she turned back toward her seemingly-catatonic friend, carefully brushing her finger tips over his person, cataloging his injuries. They couldn't have been too deep as he wasn't bleeding a lot, but Spirits strike her if she wasn't going to take care of him anyway._

  
  


“_Keith,” Romelle gently called. Frowning when he didn't respond, she kneeled back down and cautiously put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. The Black Paladin flinched before looking up at her with wide, glossy eyes._

  
  


“_...'Melle..?”_

  
  


_The altean abhorred the vulnerable look he wore, the expression foreign to the confidant, stalwart man she knew, but regardless she breathed easier seeing that at least some awareness had returned him. “Here, let's get you cleaned up.” She forced her voice to keep a calm she didn't feel as the young woman grabbed him by the hand and slowly pulled him to his feet. Even then she could tell she was pulling most of his weight. He stood, albeit wavering, but still on his own two feet; with little effort she guided him to sit on his bed. Leaving him to collect a medical kit, she returned to see he hadn't moved from the spot she had put him in: shoulders slumped, arms pressed against his sleep shirt, the wounds staining it worse. Romelle worried her lower lip when she saw bits of mirror in some of the cuts; a rather large one had managed to embed itself in his forearm._

  
  


_How in the Spirit World did he manage to do this to himself!? _

_It just... it didn't seem physically possible..._

  
  


_Romelle readied the bandages and a wet towel before taking tweezers to the largest of the shards. One by one she plucked out each of the pieces, her frown only worsening when Keith didn't react to what must have been painful extractions. After removing each shard she would then wash the wound of blood before applying a dollop of healing salve and a clean bandage as the finishing touch._

  
  


_After she had covered the last of the cuts and closed up the medkit, she sat next to Keith on his bed, reaching out to take one of his hands in her own and giving it a gentle squeeze. A delayed moment later he gave a weak squeeze back, almost as an afterthought. In return Romelle slowly rested her head on Keith's shoulder, sighing. She knew there was no point in asking if he was alright when he clearly wasn't. It was still too evident to see how shaken her friend was – her usually fearless friend who she'd never seen even unnerved since she had met him. Instead, Romelle gave him time to collect himself, to calm down, to realize he was safe. As the two sat side-by-side for a long silence, the altean could almost feel the tense adrenaline slowly drain from the Black Paladin's posture._

  
  


_Once he had seemed moderately calm, or at least not quite on edge as he had been, she broke the silence once more. “Maybe we shouldn't wait until tomorrow. To talk with Coran, I mean.”_

  
  


_And just like that Keith went rigid again. Yet although she regretted the reaction she didn't regret her words. There was another lengthy pause before his reply came. “But if we try to reach him now,” he murmured, “then Allura will find out. Even if he doesn't tell her she'll know something's going on. There's no way to get a hold of him privately.”_

  
  


“_You know, maybe her knowing is a good thing – “_

  
  


“_No!” Came the panicked response, Keith sharply turning to look at her with wild eyes, the motion forcing her to sit upright. Both of them seemed cut off guard by his shout; he flustered before looking away. “It's bad enough that you and Lance already know.”_

  
  


_Romelle knew he didn't mean it the way it sounded. She _knew_ it, but the words still stung. “But she might be able to help, too. I think this is more serious than you and I first realized,” she frowned, brow furrowed. “Don't you trust her? She's your teammate for Spirit's sake!”_

  
  


_Keith grimaced apologetically but regardless shook his head. “Not with this.”_

  
  


“_Then why not call Shiro? You trust _him_, right?”_

  
  


“_Of course I do!” He looked away to the wall. “But he's got enough on his plate; he doesn't need to add this on top of it all.”_

  
  


_Romelle's eyes narrowed at his obvious dodge. “Then let's call Lance since he already knows what's going!”_

  
  


_He shook his head once more, this time the motion sharper, his countenance becoming more vexed. “No.” Now his tone was firm, his response clearly non-negotiable in his eyes. “He doesn't need to know what happened either. It's not like he can do anything about it, anyway.”_

  
  


“_Keith,” her admonishment was gentle but stern, “I thought you said that Krolia asked you to be more open with us.”_

  
  


_Frustrated, he whirled back around to look at her. “And you were the one who said I deserved some privacy!”_

  
  


“_Yes!” she replied, throwing her arms up in the air in exasperation. “And that was before you got injured! It's a different story when it's causing you to hurt yourself!”_

  
  


“_I - wait...” His voice lowered to a near-whisper, his tone incredulous. “You think_ I _did this?”_

  
  


_She worried her lip, her eyes searching his face. “...didn't you?” _

  
  


“_Of course not!” Keith abruptly stood up from the bed, crossing to the other side of the room and folding his arms. He resolutely stared at the wall._

  
  


“_Keith...” Romelle rose to her feet slowly, watching him from afar. She'd never seen Keith this rattled before and frankly it was beginning to frighten her. “...What happened with the mirror?”_

  
  


“_I...” He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the question, before finally responding. “...I don't know.”_

  
  


“_So then, how did it shatter?” _

  
  


_She had meant the question as an honest curiosity, had tried to frame it as such, but regardless of whether her tone had carried any accusation or not, she saw the exact moment Keith shut down on her. Romelle watched as his shoulders curled in on himself, his head drooping in a resigned manner, the way he refused to look at her when he finally spoke even as he began to walk out of the room. “Thank you for helping me. It's late. You should get some sleep.”_

  
  


“_Keith-!” she gasped in shock, taking a step forward._

  
  


“_You can stay in the room if you want. I'm gonna go pilot Black for a bit.” _

  
  


_His defeated voice broke her heart. It also stunned her just enough that when she finally moved to follow, to stop him from leaving, she was instead greeted by the bedroom door sliding shut in her face; the Black Paladin had wasted no time in swiftly exiting the room. She could hear his measured, hastened steps echoing further and further away. Although she could easily give chase, Romelle hesitated. Even if she caught up to him, the young altean realized she wouldn't even know what to say - wouldn't even know what to do. She didn't even know anymore what the right path was: was it right to push him to get help? To go behind his back and tell Coran? _

  
  


_No... He would never trust her ever again if she did that. _

_But what if it happened again? What if he got hurt even worse...?_

  
  


_Gingerly she placed her forehead on the metal door, its chilled exterior like a wet rag to her feverishly-racing mind. It looked like neither of them would be sleeping the rest of the night._

  
  


That had been four vargas ago. They hadn't spoken a word since.

  
  


He hated it. Hated that he had made it so uncomfortable that neither of them felt like they could speak. Hated that they floated on through the emptiness of space in a silence so suffocating it was almost unbearable – and it was all his fault. Romelle had done _nothing_ but watched over him, bandaged him up like Keith often needed when he was a kid. And like always, for all her trouble he pushed her away, panicking when it felt like things were falling to pieces and doing whatever he could do to feel some semblance of control over the situation. He knew it was wrong, knew he should be better, but knowing and doing were two completely different things and right now, he couldn't bring himself to do anything, his buzzing mind paralyzing him and trapping the apology he needed to make in his lungs.

  
  


It's just... He had seen the look on her face. He had seen it on the faces of many family service workers growing up – that look of uneasy concern, of hardly-masked regret. It was a look adults had given him when they thought he was more of a case than they could handle, or that he was too problematic to take care of himself properly, that he needed constant supervision. Even Adam, Shiro's ex-boyfriend had given him the look one time when Keith had been sent to Iverson's office on reprimand and Shiro had gotten called down to deal with the situation.

  
  


One would have thought Keith would have figured out how to deal with that look by now. Just another misgiving to add to the list. Because in the end, Keith didn't know a lot of things, like what he had been seeing, why this was happening, what it all meant.

  
  


But there was one thing he knew for sure - he hadn't touched the mirror.

* * *

  
  


In order to maintain some semblance of a circadian rhythm and thus avoid suffering the worst case of jet lag ever known when the team finally reached earth, they had decided that ship-time would run on a quintant basis (although 'they' was a stretch of the word; it was really only Coran who cared). From zero-hundred vargas to oh-seven-hundred was designated for lights out with a rotating person on watch for trouble as well as breakfast and getting ready for the day. Oh-eight-thirty to ten-hundred was reserved for training, whether it was drills with the Lions, sparring in Black or Yellow or just a general workout. Lunch, courtesy of Hunk, was around ten-thirty vargas. From then until zero-hundred depended on the day: sometimes it was planet-side scavenging or making camp, others were team-wide activities. In today's case, it was marked as free time to do as one pleased.

  
  


It meant that Keith didn't have to try and interact with the other team members or lead an expedition despite being dead-tired. Honestly he couldn't have been more relieved. It was bad enough that he had had to walk the team through a sparring exercise that morning; although at least as the instructor he could mostly just stand there and give directions rather than actively participate. He was surprised that Lance hadn't called him out for it.

  
  


Instead, the Blade was content to stay seated in Black's pilot chair, idly listening to Pidge, Hunk and Lance squabble about some game they were playing. As much as their bickering (well, primarily Lance's) annoyed the heck out of him, it was better than sitting in complete silence with only his thoughts for company (since he had messed things up with Romelle and still hadn't apologized for it). Although “silence” wasn't quite the correct word; there had been an errant buzzing in the back of his head that had started sometime in the early morning and slowly seemed to escalate throughout the day. Even when it blossomed into a full-blown headache he could still hear the aggravating noise over the pounding in his skull. At least hearing the Garrison trio laugh was a nice distraction.

  
  


A few more vargas. He just needed to tough it out a few more vargas before they would land planet-side to make camp. Pidge had found a forested planet not unlike Earth with a few scattered populaces that could be potential Voltron Coalition allies, and no galra in sight. Once the team landed he would make good on his promise to Romelle to talk to Coran. And then maybe apologize to her. Definitely apologize to her. He hadn't seen her much since he left the cockpit to run the morning drills; she had taken her lunch and her tablet into her designated “room” in the back and had been there since. He had seen her sitting on her cot just thirty dobashes ago as he had passed through the hold on his way to his cabin's restroom; she had been heads down, madly typing away so he decided to leave her be and keep to the front of the Lion – give her space. Besides, it wasn't like he kept an account of where everyone was or what they were doing during their free period – they were more than allowed to have their alone time. He of all people would never beseech them that.

  
  


Thus with an increasingly-debilitating headache that made reading difficult and a bone-tired exhaustion that ruled out physical activity, there wasn't much else for Keith to do except wait for the dobashes to tick by. Allura was on watch for the varga but it never hurt to have two sets of eyes open; he had offered to relieve her early but she politely declined, encouraging him to take a nap - not realizing that sleep just wasn't going to be an option for him. The only thing left was to stare blankly ahead at the drifting debris slowly accumulating outside as the team neared their destination, to try to focus on Hunk's pitiful whine and Pidge's near-nefarious chortle as she claimed another pair of the Yellow Paladin's card, rather than the incessant buzzing that filled the room. He must have somewhat succeeded because he didn't realize for a while that the buzzing wasn't only coming from his head; it wasn't until his wrist communicator vibrated that he realized it had been trying to get his attention for the last five dobashes.

  
  


Curious, Keith glanced down at his gauntlet to see that sure enough, a yellow light signifying an unread message was blinking. Needless to say it was unexpected; the team had consistently used the Lion's vidcomms to reach each other since the beginning of their trek to Earth. Even with the comm system in active use by three of the five paladins it typically wouldn't stop one of the passengers from walking into the call with whatever they needed. The comm system effectively served as a virtual common room for the entire group, a way to stay close and connected despite being stuck in the Lions for the majority of their travel. So to elect to use the personal communicators instead meant that whatever message was enclosed was not meant for the public space. Or maybe, he mused as he started to pull up the message, it was Romelle wanting his attention without treking to the front of the Lion; it wouldn't have been the first time. It couldn't have possibly been his mother or Kolivan – as much as he wished it, the wrist comms had nowhere near the range for that.

  
  


The message popped up as a turquoise hologram; his eyes widened in response.

  
  


_T. Shirogane: Hey, can we talk?_

  
  


For a moment Keith stared dumbly at the words on the transparent screen as he idly reread it over and over. His heart quivered in an uncomfortable anticipation he couldn't identify as good or bad. The Black Paladins hadn't talked in quintants and even then it hadn't been more than what was strictly necessary - and completely within a group setting at that. Thinking back, the last time he and his longtime friend (if that's even what they still were) had had any sort of meaningful conversation was movements ago, when Shiro still rode in Black. In fact, the very last time they had spoken one-to-one was when his once-mentor had switched to Green.

  
  


_No, _he caught himself, shaking his head in disappointment, _that wasn't right_. Shiro had called him through the vidcomm system after the catastrophe that had been the most-recent training simulation, the one that had taken place just a quintant earlier. Shiro had reached out, and Keith, completely caught up in his own issues, had never reached back. Although he grasped his gauntlet with the communicator with a stiff tightness, the thumb he ran over the message was cherishing, the light of the hologram disappearing where the digit swept over only to reappear in its absence. It reminded him on their friendship in an odd sort of way: that despite it seeming like the entire universe was fervently trying to come between them, nothing could really erase what was there.

  
  


So long as Keith didn't let it.

  
  


His mind made up, for once he wasn't going to worry about what Shiro had to say. His ex-mentor could berate him all he wanted over the clusterfuck that had been Keith's leadership these past few quintants - it would all be worth it just to get to see him again, to hear his voice. Haggar had tried to destroy what the two of them had through the clone's harsh words and even harsher actions but in the end she had failed; although it might have caused damage and possibly even irrevocably changed whatever that something was between them, that special something hadn't been lost and would never fade away, so long as Keith stopped running from his problems. He clenched his fist, the material of his gloves crinkling, the joints in his fingers popping from the strain. Maybe everything else in his life was slowly falling apart, but he wouldn't – _couldn't_ – let this go too, at least not without a fight.

  
  


The Blade started to type a response. He then paused briefly before deleting the words and retyping new ones in their stead. And then again. And then once more. Then he debated just giving up and calling the man directly (thereby giving himself no chance to dwell on what he would say) before opting against it just in case Shiro was busy (busy doing what? His mind not-so-helpfully supplied). Grumbling, he started back on the message for a fourth time but hesitated only another word in, opting to curse instead. How was it that he could be so straight-to-the-point with everyone else but not with the one who mattered most? Quiznak, he could already imagine how much Lance would laugh if he saw Keith floundering like this.

  
  


The Black Paladin glared at the screen, his headache only worsening with his frustration. The conversation from the still-going card game he had inadvertently tuned out heightened in sound almost unnaturally, Lance's excited cheer over scoring two pairs like a screech that rended his train of thought. The barely-typed message in front of him blurred and doubled, and blinking his watery eyes did nothing to fix it.

  
  


It was starting to get harder and harder to focus on anything else beyond the pounding in his skull. The buzzing surged in both pitch and volume making it difficult to hear Hunk's voice as he called Lance's bluff, making it almost impossible to think straight at all. He pressed a hand to his head with a teeth-grinding grimace, wincing, wishing it would spare him some relief.

  
  


That was when he felt it. Faint ripples from a pulse in the far distance ahead of the Lions. A murmuring of unspoken, incoherent words. A metallic hum that squirmed underneath his skin and nestled itself within his bones.

  
  


Almost unconsciously, instinctively, he understood what it meant.

  
  


As fast as lightning Keith flipped his comm off of mute. “Paladins! Trouble at twelve o'clock!”

  
  


Thank the stars most of his fellow pilots were already in their chairs - just as their confused replies came over the line, two Galra Empire cruisers and a massive destroyer exited warp ahead of them. Immediately fighters leaked out of all three like angry hornets from a nest.

  
  


“Quiznack!” Pidge curse as she scrambled upright in her chair, knocking her set of cards off the dashboard and onto the floor. “How the heck did they find us in the middle of nowhere?!” Behind her the cockpit door wooshed open; Shiro rushed into the room, sliding to a stop behind her seat.

  
  


“Maybe they just happened to be in the area?” Hunk called back.

  
  


Allura's vidscreen popped up on their displays, showing her slipping into Blue's pilot seat. “Not possible; we would have detected them in Pidge's initial scans of the quadrant!”

  
  


“There's no way they can be tracking us!” Lance bit out, although his expression turned uncomfortably uncertain, “... Right?”

  
  


Hunk worried his lower lip. “What are we going to do? The Lions aren't powered enough to take them all on!”

  
  


Keith didn't respond. He couldn't hear their words. Their voices suddenly seemed so very, very far away, muted like someone had stuck cotton into his ears or shoved his head underwater. Instead he stared helplessly transfixed as the pulsing he had felt earlier intensified. Unlike the buzzing, it didn't aggravate or hurt; it was like calm tide lapping over him. Intoxicatingly soothing... Beckoning... The surrounding space falling away from him...

  
  


Something was calling out to him.

  
  


Before him was an enormous glowing light in a barren cavern chamber, a gold core ebbing and flowing within its reactor-like confinement. A robed humanoid figure stood in front of it, hooded, masked and cloaked in a way that made it impossible to describe them. The core's light then turned an angry magenta before becoming a sickly green, its fluctuating motions suddenly violent. The being looked back over their shoulder as if suddenly realizing Keith's presence. As they turned to face him, the ground grew dark, black, its surface contorting, what looked like clawed hands pushing through tar, reaching upward desperately. The figure ignored them, their eyeless mask fixed on Keith; they slowly reached up to grasp the bottom of it -

  
  


“KEITH, LOOK OUT!”

  
  


The cavern evaporated like fog and all he could see was the magenta glow of an ion blast coming straight toward his Lion. He cursed before pushing Black into a barrel roll; the shot grazed his ship as it passed.

  
  


“What the hell, Keith!” Pidge continued as her vidcomm popped up on his dash. Despite her choice of words she looked scared more than angry.

  
  


He shook his head, trying to dispel the imagery, the pulsating feeling that still lingered under his skin. “Sorry-” Keith was cut off as another fighter swarmed him, forcing him to rush Black away. Circling around, he could see that the battle had quickly devolved into a dog fight, each of the Paladins scattered trying to hold off the fighters that continued to descend upon them. Below them loomed the planet they had meant to land on later that evening; littered around them were massive asteroids that served as natural satellites – large enough to provide a hindrance to their enemies, but not enough to hide among or to allow the team to flee.

  
  


“Come on, Team Leader, we need a plan!” Lance called from his right, ducking under one fighter and releasing an ion blast that destroyed another. The Lion's depleted energy levels showed; Red was running much slower than usual, her dodging almost lethargic in comparison. They were lucky that the Lions could even manage that; at half-energy, there was certainly no way they could make use of their unique powers.

  
  


_At least not separately_.

  
  


Thinking fast, their options limited, Keith made his call. “If we can't run, then we need to play this smart. The only way we'll get enough power to take on the big guns is if we can combine our Lions together. We've got to thin the herd so we can get enough time to form Voltron. Bait and switch them! Lance, Pidge, you're our two fastest Lions; get their attention and line 'em up for shots from Yellow and Blue. And if you've got an opportunity to bring a fighter down, take it.”

  
  


Lance saluted with a grin. “Aye aye, Captain!” Pidge rolled her eyes but gave a sharp nod nonetheless.

  
  


“The Lions might not be fast,” Keith continued, “but they're still nimble; use the asteroid for tight banking. Hunk, Yellow might be the slowest but with the asteroid field, you're the only one of us that can use the element of surprise. Find an opportunity to smash through the rocks to take out the competition on the other side.”

  
  


“You got it,” Hunk replied, swallowing uncomfortably but determined none the less.

  
  


“Allura, you're with me. I'll watch your six, just focus on taking out as many as you can. If somehow you can use your sonic cannon, do it.”

  
  


The altean princess nodded resolutely. “Ok.”

  
  


“Alright team!” Keith dodged another attack before turning back to his peers vidscreens, looking each of them in the eye. “Things might look dire but our part in this war is far from over. Let's make 'em regret coming after us today!”

  
  


“Yeah!”

  
  


Immediately the five lions scattered like shattered glass. Blue wasted no time tackling a fighter heading for Yellow; it gave Hunk a chance to dig into one of the nearby asteroids unnoticed. Red and Green flanked the largest group of fighters and swarmed them with a barrage ion of blasts. Although the two Paladins had only managed to destroy few, they definitely caught the attention of the rest.

  
  


As Keith was swinging the Black Lion around to body-slam two of the fighters chasing Green (“Thanks Keith!” Pidge hailed), the cockpit door slid open with a woosh. “What the quiznack is going on?!” Romelle demanded as she rushed in, Kosmo close on her heels. Her hair was down and mussed; she must have just been rudely woken from a nap. Her eyes widened as she took in the battlefield. “Woah, this is one merdflök of a simulation.”

  
  


“Not a simulation!” He gritted back, eyes focused sharp on the adversaries he had inadvertently distracted from pursing Pidge. The Blade banked hard, straining the drive sticks in an effort to dodge the incoming blasts. Letting out a curse, he decided to throw caution to the wind. “Form jawblade!” Slamming the controls back he brought the Lion to a screeching halt. The two fighters that had been trailing him couldn't react in time and instead rammed themselves against both sides of Black's weapon. A moment of respite earned, Keith twisted around the seat to peer back at Romelle. “Go back to the storage hold. It's not safe!”

  
  


She shook her head sharply, her blonde locks swishing idly behind her. “No way. I'm staying here!”

  
  


“Please Romelle,” he pleaded, “there's nothing you can do here.”

  
  


By the look on her face the half-galran could tell she was as frustrated with his words as he was with the truthfulness of them. Still, she crossed her arms and scowled. “I can be here for you!” Keith stared blankly at her, unsure of how to respond. It was just like her to be so open and giving.

  
  


It was also just easier to give up arguing with her and instead fight a near-hopeless battle with the Galran Empire.

  
  


He turned back to the screen in acquiescence. Romelle and Kosmo rushed up to both sides of his chair as he re-entered the battle. Six of the remaining fighters were giving chase to Red, so close to the Lion's tail that there was hardly any room to maneuver. Keith thought he could hear Lance incessantly hissing curses in Spanish under his breath.

  
  


Before the Black Paladin could move to intervene, Yellow burst from within a nearby asteroid, debris jettisoning into the fighters. “Surprise!” Cheered Hunk as his Lion clawed two of them in one go.

  
  


“Phew, thanks buddy,” Lance breathed, winded but relieved. “You saved my bacon!” The distraction gave Red enough time to turn two more into space dust with a sweep from its tail cannon.

  
  


“Man, don't talk about food right now. I don't want to think that my last meal might have been food goo.”

  
  


“We're not going down!” Keith challenged, intercepting a blast for Allura while she engaged another enemy ship. “Not today, not ever!” Each of the Paladins nodded resolutely, tired but reinvigorated by the words.

  
  


It was evident that the Lions were struggling. They were still managing to keep one step ahead, though that wouldn't last much longer with the way the cruisers were approaching, weapons nearly in range. But what Keith found odd to the point of concerning was how the destroyer hung back. It didn't make sense to do so; between the three battle ships there was more than enough artillery to wipe out the Lions, He also knew that the Galra cared little for collateral damage to their fleet, so why wasn't their largest ship engaging?

  
  


He probably shouldn't be looking a gift horse in the mouth. Still, two cruisers were more than enough cause for concern.

  
  


“Alright team, it's time! Fall back and follow my lead,” the Black Paladin called, watching the other four lions rush to his side in their proper order. “Let's form Voltron!”

  
  


The space around them disappeared in a blur of color, five Lions coalescing as one. Even after all this time it was still an incredible rush for him to feel his connection to the other four paladins strengthen and blossom. Like a distant heartbeat he could sense but couldn't control. To them the transformation seemed to end as soon as it had began, the swirling vortex surrounding them growing still. Only Voltron remained.

  
  


Keith wasn't about to let a tick go to waste. “Lance! Form sword!”

  
  


“On it!” The Red Paladin slammed his bayard into the port and gave it a twist. From nothingness the Red Lion unsheathed its bladed weapon. Simultaneously the Black Lion's wings slammed in front of the mecha as a shield on its other arm

  
  


“Let's go!” shouted Keith, pushing both of Black's drive sticks forward once more. Voltron sped off toward the nearest fighter, downing it in a single vicious slash before turning toward the closest of the cruisers. With the Lions combined, the robot was noticeably faster - it still didn't hold a candle to what it had been capable of before, though.

  
  


“Keith!” Pidge hailed, her vidcomm bursting to life on his screen. Shiro stood behind her with a concerned expression that matched her own. “We still don't have the power needed for any of the other Lions' abilities!”

  
  


“I know,” he calmly replied even as the team pushed to bring down another fighter. Voltron pivoted just in time to block an incoming blast from a third with the wing shield. “This is going to have to be enough.”

  
  


Hunk's screen popped up next to Pidge's, the other two Paladins' joining a moment later. “There's no way we're going to be able to bring down three warships!”

  
  


“We don't need to destroy them,” Allura provided, worry and resolution both etched on her features. “We just need to keep them from chasing us!”

  
  


“Allura's right,” Keith confirmed. “Pidge, do you still have schematics from the last cruiser we infiltrated?”

  
  


Her response was a blueprint that pushed their screens on the HUD aside. Keith nodded. “Good. We aim for the mid-stern section of the ship, toward the center. That's where the drive cores reside.”

  
  


Lance grinned in response. “Damage the cores enough and they'll sit dead in the water!”

  
  


“It's a long shot, but it's our best chance. We go in fast and hit hard before they realize what we're doing. Maybe it's a long shot, but if anyone can pull it off, it's us. Let's do this!”

  
  


Four screens closed at the chorus of four voices. “Right!”

  
  


Voltron snatched one of the remaining fighters passing by and tossed it like a discus into another approaching one before turning its attention on the cruiser. Dodging several incoming ion blasts, the giant robot flew beneath the hull, slamming the blade into its side and dragging it upward. The gash left behind was wide, electricity sparking from within. The team brought Voltron away before circling back around once more, rushing straight to the ship's wound with its sword outstretched. The impact shook them all as the mecha collided hard against the ship's side, the blade buried deep. They only had precious ticks to twist the weapon even deeper, but whatever they had manage to hit had worked; as the team pulled back to avoid a new fleet of fighters, the cruiser's lights sparked briefly before fading.

  
  


Lance cheered as he caused the sword his lion was clutching to spin once in hand. “Ha! Suck on that!”

  
  


“That's just one down,” Hunk reminded, although he was looking much more lively than before.

  
  


Keith only glowered at their next target, his attention solely focused on the remaining cruiser. “Up and over this time!”

  
  


Their plan discovered, the cruiser began to pivot its immense size away from them as fighters descended upon their position. 'Up and over' soon became 'around the nearest asteroid and behind the incoming fighter ship' and more. Voltron swept in to deliver a blow, but it was nowhere near as damaging as their first run. When the team brought the mecha back and circled around for a second attempt, their approach was as waylaid as the first time.

  
  


“Not gonna make it easy for us, are they?” Pidge growled, bringing the shield up to block a barrage of blasts from the cruiser itself before Allura and Hunk brought Voltron away. The team had manage to disable half of the ship but it still left plenty of artillery for the Empire to bombard them with.

  
  


Keith couldn't help but scowl in frustration. There had to be a way for them to break through, to get close enough to -

  
  


\- _don't belong here _-

  
  


The Black Paladin's eyes widened in shock. The pulse he had felt before... It was there again, suddenly so present despite the surrounding battle. It tugged like a string attached to the back of his rib case. Nausea flooded him.

  
  


\- _come back to me brother _-

  
  


The murmuring of voices rose. His skin felt like spiders had been sown inside, unnaturally uncomfortable and agitating. Sickening. Another pulse crashed into him, pulling him like the tide in a storm, leaving him dizzy, making his head pound.

  
  


His eyes locked onto the destroyer in the distance.

  
  


\- _what have you done_ -

  
  


Keith choked a gasp as the high-pitched noise from before returned with a vengeance. His helmet was suddenly stifling; he couldn't breathe. Without a second thought he ripped his tensed fingers from the drive sticks and tore his helmet off, throwing it wayside. It clamored loudly as it hit the wall and floor. He slammed his palms over his ears, desperately grasping at his head as if to stave off the growing pressure within his skull but to no avail.

  
  


Instantly Romelle was at his side, kneeling in front of him and trying a look at his face. “Keith! What's happening?!” His response was nothing more than a whimper. His adrenaline spiking – tremors wracking his body – his skin threatening to burn from the inside out – his vision warping -

  
  


“Keith, this isn't working,” Lance called over the voice comm. “We need a new plan!”

  
  


_\- he was in a cavern, slain galra littered the floor, a massacre – he was in a lonely, sterile room, an alien woman lay prone at his feet, singed and limp – _

  
  


Keith slammed his eyes shut but it did nothing to stay the images.

  
  


“Lance!” Romelle cried, turning toward the console. She tried frantically to remember exactly what Lance did to enable the vidcomm on Blue, couldn't find the right button. “It's Keith!”

  
  


_\- he was in an enormous hall, cradling the face of a lizard-like humanoid between his hands, gentle even as power radiated through him, as the creature screamed in a slow and painful demise -_

  
  


“Keith-?” Came Lance's voice through the comm, edged with concern. “What's-”

  
  


  
  


\- k̷̡̛̖̜̇̿́̔̈́͊n̶̡̫̙̫͔̲̩̭̙͓̑͊̐̂̏̆̂̓͌̃̍͘̚͜ö̴̟̩̹̃̈́͌̎̐̐̀̊w̶̛͕̭͇̦u̷̪͋̈̈́͗ͅs̸̡͍͔͖̲̬̝͚͙͎͙͂̽͒̂̅̉̇͑̓̂̎̈̕͜͠k̶̛̦̪̰̒̐̓͑̾̎̓̎͠n̵̡̻͔̲̙͖͈̤̜̭̞͉͇̯̅̂̿̈́̕͝ờ̶̧̻͔͔̮̹̜̘̝͓̯͇͒͗̆͂̅̂̆̓͜͠͝͠͠w̷̛̥͈̱̻͖͉̫̹͛̅̾̓̈́̍̕̚͜͝u̵͇̰̮͔̖̲̓͆̀͆͝s̵̨͉̟͈͓̖̣̾̑̊̅̎̈̚_k_n̶̡̫̙̫͔̲̩̭̙͓̑͊̐̂̏̆̂̓͌̃̍͘̚͜ö̴̟̩̹̃̈́͌̎̐̐̀̊_w_u̷̪͋̈̈́͗ͅ_s_k̶̛̦̪̰̒̐̓͑̾̎̓̎͠_no_w̶̛͕̭͇̦_usKnowUsKnOwUskNoWuSKNOWUSKNOWUSKNOWUS -_

  
  


  
  


Keith Kogane opened his eyes. His vision went white.

  
  


And the room erupted in fuchsia.

  
  


* * *

  
  


One moment the team was regrouping before attempting another run on the damaged but still functional cruiser.

  
  


The next found each of the paladins giving a cry of pain as something like static flooded their connection with the Lions and each other. The feeling lashed and crackled.

  
  


And then Voltron shattered apart.

  
  


It all happened in mere ticks, almost too quick to comprehend. But Shiro no longer had a connection to any of the Lions and thus he wasn't affected by whatever attack had successfully disassembled Voltron. And so he witnessed everything with an unobstructed view, saw the blinding light before the massive war machine erupted into its feline pieces.

  
  


Despite what perhaps what many including most of the Paladins thought, there were many things that “Shiro the Hero” feared: the night terrors that caused him to violently lash out; Haggar somehow managing to take control of him once more; his disease returning with a vengeance. It had always been difficult to decide which one was more terrible than the others.

  
  


That was until he heard Keith's agonized scream over the comms, more piercing and magnitudes louder than the others. Until the Lions broke apart and he was forced to watch the Black Lion careen out of control and slam into a nearby asteroid where it remained, unmoving.

  
  


Suddenly it was easy to decide which fear was the worst.

  
  


“Keith!!!” Shiro cried out, and heard a collective of voices including Pidge's rise to shout the same. Around them it was like time had stopped, the battle somehow paused, each of its combatants waiting with bated breath to hear the Black Paladin's voice, to see the Lion's eyes flash gold as it stood proudly to rejoin the battle. But all they were greeted with was silence. Silence, and an inert Lion.

  
  


And just like that, their moment of reprieve was gone. A new wave of fighters were upon them. The four Lions retreated, each in their own direction, just barely keeping ahead of the onslaught of cannon fire.

  
  


“Quiznack, now what?!” Pidge implored, slinging Green around an asteroid in an attempt to lose the fighters on her tail. Shiro gripped the seat back hard to keep from slamming into the nearby wall as she banked hard to port. He looked over his good shoulder to see that two of the fighters were still keeping pace. His fingers flexed hard is worry.

  
  


Just as Green passed another asteroid, Yellow body-slammed one of the fighters into another, both erupting in an explosion. Hunk's voice came over the comm line. “This was already near-impossible with all five Lions!”

  
  


“Lance?” Beckoned Allura for an answer, calm even when edged with nerves and strain.

  
  


Lance stuttered, beads of sweat sliding down his tensed face, “I-”. With a quick pull of the drive sticks he just narrowly avoided a direct hit from the squadron that had followed him. “I don't know! I can't think while trying to keep Red from becoming metallic mince meat right now!” The Red Paladin swiveled his Lion around just in time to see three more fighters heading straight for Black. He growled through gritted teeth in a way that would have made Keith proud - “Oh no you don't!” - and made a bee line for the galra ships, firing as many ion blasts as his Lion would allow. It was enough to destroy one and deter the other two. He huffed into the mic, fighting to catch his breath. “Shiro! What can we do!?”

  
  


Shiro furrowed his brow as he worried his lower lip. It would be a lie to say he wasn't already thinking about what next steps they should take – steps they _could_ take. At this point it was simply second nature for him to assess a situation and determine a course of action on the fly. But he had been keeping himself back, not wanting to intrude of Keith's leadership. He could still feel them, the numerous memories of his clone and Keith – the _rightful _leader of Voltron – giving conflicting orders, the burgeoning strain between them enough to suffocate the room. The abrasive way Shiro had given his critiques which at best were thinly-disguised chastisement and at worst heartless insults. It didn't matter how much of it was due to Haggar's influence; _he_ had been the one to say those words and still they left a noxious taste in his mouth.

  
  


And now here they were in the middle of another crisis, this one more hopeless than the last, and with Keith unresponsive that put Lance rightfully in command. Lance, who spent most of his life getting things second-hand, whether it was clothes or fighter class or the chance to lead. Shiro didn't want to be the one to take that away from him, especially after how the former Black Paladin had handled things with Keith before.

  
  


_But the situation's dire and Lance is asking, _he tentatively considered, _so maybe that makes it okay?_

  
  


“Shiro!”

  
  


He nodded, mostly to himself but also to Pidge who had twisted in her seat to give him a look of concern. Without a moment to waste he stepped to the side of the chair, closer to the view screen. “I'm here, Lance. You and Pidge keep those fighters distracted; Hunk, Allura, get to the Black Lion and guard it. Coran, see if you can get a hold of Romelle through her communicator. If you can, ask her if Kosmo can transfer the three of them to one of the Lions.”

  
  


“I'm on it!” Coran shouted over the comm. The Blue Lion's vidscreen popped up on Pidge's dash, Allura's concerned face appearing. “Wait,” she began, “does that mean we are leaving the Black Lion?”

  
  


Shiro grimaced but didn't deny it. “We might have to. There's no way we can spare a Lion to carry her if we end up having to make a run for it.”

  
  


“I can put a homing signal on the destroyer and the remaining cruiser,” Pidge interjected. “That way if they take it we'll be able to track them down!”

  
  


Allura uncomfortably swallowed but nodded nonetheless. “Okay. You're right; Keith is the priority here. If the Galra capture us I doubt they would offer any medical care even if he's seriously injured.” Shiro nodded with a grimace.

  
  


The door behind Allura slid open as Coran dashed back into the room. “It's no good – she's not answering!”

  
  


The altean princess's face fell even as she focused on unleashing Blue's jaw blade on a few fighters that had gotten past Lance's and Pidge's defense. She looked back to Shiro. “You don't think...”

  
  


But there wasn't any time to think, to worry, not with the way the destroyer continued its looming approach. Not with how the damaged cruiser kept releasing more and more fighters. Not without knowing whether Keith, Romelle and Kosmo were in critical condition, or worse. Shiro couldn't afford to let himself think of anything but the next step. “Alright, change on plans. We need to send an extraction to Black. Allura, you're it. Get Blue as close as you can; Coran, do you know how to work the Lion?”

  
  


“Er, on a theoretical level, yes!”

  
  


“Well you're about to get a crash course. See if Blue will let you operate her laser cannon. The rest of us, get close to the Lion and keep them off her as long as possible, even if it means taking a few hits. As soon as Allura and the others are back in Blue, we're going to make a run for it.”

  
  


Each of the remaining Paladins acknowledged before moving their Lions within range of Black, its body still sprawled lifelessly, its eyes still dark. With a generous leap, Allura brought Blue side by side to the fallen Lion before sliding out her seat and readying to jettison to the other war machine. Yellow landed close on the opposite side, debris kicking up as she dug her enormous claws into the asteroid and firing hard at the fighters approaching from behind. Green and Red both circled above, doing their best to rend any enemy ship that came close.

  
  


Then, unexpectedly all of the Galran fighters pulled away. The team were only spared a moment to wonder why before the cruiser unleashed a battery of blasts.

  
  


Both of the arms of Voltron were knocked into the asteroid; Shiro struggled to keep upright as Green landed hard on her side. Each of the Lions were pinned.

  
  


“Ahh!” Allura yelped, stumbling into the wall beside the door exiting into the Lion's mouth. The shots shook Blue like earthquake. “Shiro, there's no way I can get to Black until they stop firing!” Around him he heard the other Paladins similarly shouting out as the barrage violently knocked them around.

  
  


“Green's power levels are draining!” Pidge added, her console beginning to flash red.

  
  


Hunk's vidcomm popped back up on her dash. “So are Yellow's, but we can't leave Keith and the others!”

  
  


_No, they couldn't,_ Shiro thought grimly, miserably. _But the Lions couldn't take much more of this. _Suddenly escape no longer seemed possible.

  
  


At least not for all of them.

  
  


War called for difficult decisions and there was no way he would force this one on Lance - the decision of who would stay behind, in hopes of surrender, at risk of execution. Lance was the fastest; he had the best chance of escaping not to mention he was now the (hopefully) interim leader of Voltron. Pidge's lion was second fastest, but with Shiro himself on board, he wasn't about to abandon those who would stay behind. He hoped Matt might forgive him for putting his sister in danger once more, although he promised to himself he would keep her safe like he did her brother.

  
  


Allura and Coran, both leaders of the Coalition as well as two of the remaining alteans in the known universe, could not stay either. Plus he couldn't bring himself to separate both Lance and Allura after seeing them grow so close to one another. Yellow had no hopes of getting away but was more than capable of giving the other two Lions the cover they needed to escape. If Shiro and the others were lucky enough to only be captured, he would do everything in his power to make sure Hunk got home to his family some day.

  
  


It was the best call he could make. It was the right call. It was a terrible call. For a brief moment he prayed he wouldn't have to make it.

  
  


And then his prayers were answers.

  
  


Black's golden eyelights suddenly sparked to life. With a quivering frame she slowly pulled herself back onto four paws.

  
  


“Keith?!” The entire team cried in a mixture of surprise and relief. Shiro could scarcely believe what he was seeing. “Keith!” He called, his heart racing. “Are you alright?!”

  
  


But no response came over the comm. Instead, the Black Lion lifted her head and gave a hearty roar, strong as if she had never been downed. The other Lions raised theirs to join the bellow. And then two enormous, magnificent, ethereal wings unfurled from the Black Lion's back. They fluttered once before expanding over the adjacent Blue and Yellow lions, shielding them from the artillery above.

  
  


“H-how?” Pidge stammered, eyes wide. “How did Keith manage to use his bayard? None of our Lions have any power!”

  
  


Hunk gasped as if breathing air for the first time. “Woah, hey, are you guys feeling that?”

  
  


“I – yeah, I think so,” replied Lance, pushing Red to Green's side to help her back on her feet. “Is that the Black Lion?”

  
  


Allura rushed back into her chair. “It is; I think she's calling for us! Quick, Pidge, Lance – get under her wings!”

  
  


Shiro watched Red give a lopsided gallop alongside Green to the Black Lion's side. He wanted to believe he had felt it, felt that hum that Voltron gave every time it wanted the Paladins' attention. But he knew it was wishful thinking, just his brain wanting what was no longer there.

  
  


Both Green and Red pressed in tight, Yellow and Blue rubbing up closer to Black. Her great diaphanous wings folded over them all, a barrier not unlike an umbrella against a hail storm. Before any of them could question “what's next”, the world around them turned bright, light moving past them rapidly, the Galra and the asteroids around them disappearing from view. It felt like they were rushing through space and yet not moving at all. Pidge shut her eyes against the nauseating sight but Shiro didn't need to; he had experienced this before. Twice. Once during the first fight with Zarkon, once in Black's void, where his spirit had gently pressed his hand over Keith's, pushing the drive stick forward.

  
  


Almost as fast as it had began it was over. The motions surrounding them all slammed to a halt. Empty darkness had been replaced with lush green foliage and large brown tree trunks with numerous vines hanging from their limbs. They were bathed in shadow, only a little light from the tree tops sprinkling through. The world around them was quiet, peaceful even.

  
  


“Ugh – w, what happened?” Hunk groaned, sounding like he might have just been sick.

  
  


“Where... are we?” Added Pidge, perplexed as she brought up her HUD, flicking through maps and star charts.

  
  


Shiro looked to the Black Lion beside him, his gaze tender and reverent. “She did it... Black teleported us. She saved us, somehow.” His face turned concerned and then to horror, however, when Black's eyelights flickered twice before completely shutting off. Her wings fizzled out and she slowly crashed back to floor, her joints keening in protest the entire way down. “Oh no...” Shiro slammed on Green's comm line, calling out desperately. “Keith! Keith, are you there?!”

  
  


Still there was no response.

  
  


Lance's vidcomm was the first of the Paladin's to reappear on Pidge's HUD before the others joined as well. The Red Paladin's face showed nothing but sheer determination. “Allura, can you get to Black?” She nodded before engaging her helmet to full coverage and rushing out the door once more. “Pidge and I will run a perimeter check. Pidge, while we're at it see if you can figure out where we are now and if there are any more Galra on the way.”

  
  


“Right.” Pidge brought Green back to the air, keeping her below the tree tops in-case there were enemies in the skies.

  
  


Lance followed closely with Red as the two took off. “Coran, stay with the Blue Lion in case trouble comes. Hunk, stick close; you're our pinch-hitter if trouble does show up, but can you also run a scan to see if the atmosphere is safe? We still don't have extra gear for Coran, Shiro and Romelle if it's not.”

  
  


“Righto,” confirmed Hunk before moving Yellow back to a defensive stance while also bringing up his HUD to run an atmospheric analysis. Allura's small form could be seen jettisoning out of Blue even as the Green Lion took Shiro further away. He could only stare helplessly as the Black Lion became smaller and smaller. Quiznack, he wish he could have gone. With no eminent battle to distract them, the worry was starting to hit him hard, edging toward an uncharacteristic panic for him. _Why_ wouldn't Keith respond?! Now he could only wait for an answer from Allura, his well-known patience quickly fraying at the edges.

  
  


Suddenly a flash of white light enveloped the room before facing; in its absence stood Kosmo. Before Shiro could even see clearly thanks to the spots in his eyes, the telelupus was stumbling against him and the room was filled with light once more. He quickly learned that teleporting with Kosmo was much different than with the Black Lion. It didn't bring motion sickness but it was certainly disconcerting to not have moved an inch when it felt like you should have ran a sprint to get to where you were.

  
  


When the light dissipated a final time he found himself standing in the storage hull of the Black Lion, supplies scattered haphazardly from the battle. No Romelle or Keith in sight, but Kosmo still rested against him, Shiro bearing most of his weight. He kneeled down to catch the wolf as the latter collapsed on his side, whining miserably. It was then Shiro noticed the singed fur that covered most of the lupine's body. The blast that had shattered Voltron had certainly done a number on the poor boy. But with a quick field assessment with his remaining hand Shiro could tell that given time and rest Kosmo would thankfully be okay; his fur had certainly does its part to protect him from the attack.

  
  


The former Black Paladin gave Kosmo a gently squeeze before carefully laying him on his side. “Thank you,” he muttered gratefully, “for bringing me here.” The wolf opened a single eye at him, almost as if in acknowledgment before closing it once more, his breathing pained but even.

  
  


The door leading to Black's mouth slid open in a rush, Allura standing on the other side with obvious surprise. “Shiro!?” the Blue Paladin gasped before sprinting into the room.

  
  


He nodded toward the telelupus. “Kosmo got me here. Don't worry,” he added as he pushed himself back to his feet, “he'll be okay, but we need to find Romelle and Keith ASAP.”

  
  


“You're right. Quickly, to the cockpit!” The two ran the few remaining feet to the door. Allura reached it first and, when it didn't respond, used her altean-grade strength to wrench it open.

  
  


Whatever had been done to Black was catastrophic. The entire interior was scorched, just like Kosmo, the air smelling of ozone and burned fur and skin. It would take the Lion some time to self-heal, if it even could in its state. Allura and Shiro didn't need to look hard before spotting Romelle who lay prone just inches from the door, her face contorted in pain as she gripped at a vicious burn on her arm, her clothes equally charred.

  
  


“Romelle!” Allura wailed while she dropped to her knees, picking the younger woman up who whimpered in response.

  
  


Shiro kneeled on the other side, hastily falling back on his first-aid training to run another field diagnostic. “She looks stable,” he supplied as he checked her pulse. “She's definitely hurt but I think she'll be okay.”

  
  


As if roused by his words, the blonde altean's eyes barely fluttered open. “Please,” she whispered with a shaky, quiet voice. “....Allura, please... Help him...” Romelle's eyes looked away toward the pilot seat before falling shut once more.

  
  


Allura took the women fully into her arms as Shiro stood. “Romelle!” She shouted once more, giving her close friend a gentle shake to wake her. He didn't stick around to see if it worked, his thoughts already fearing what he would see – or wouldn't see – when he rounded the pilot chair. _Please, please be there. Please don't be gone. Please be alive._

  
  


The pilot seat was empty.

  
  


The floor in front of it was not.

  
  


Shiro rushed to Keith's side, sliding into a kneel as he neared. “Keith!!” He cried, reaching out but not yet touching the fallen paladin. The Black Paladin was laying on his side, knees pulled to his chest, fingers clutching his hair as his wide, unfocused eyes bled tears. His whole body was shaking violently and although his lips were moving, Shiro heard no sound.

  
  


“... Keith?” He uncertainly said again, finally placing his remaining hand on the half-galran's shoulder; there was no reaction. Tears of his own blurred his vision as he began to panic. He turned over his shoulder and called back, “Allura! I need you over here!”

  
  


A few ticks and a scattering of steps later the Blue Paladin was kneeling by his side near Keith's head. Her face mirrored the worry he felt. “Oh no,” she grimaced, “Keith! Can you hear me?!” She received no response, only more murmured, incoherent words.

  
  


Shiro looked to her with pleading eyes. “It's like he's having some sort of seizure. He's probably been like this the entire time! Is there anything you can do?”

  
  


Allura bit her lip, reaching out with a trembling hand to brush away the sweat-dampened locks on Keith's forehead. As her fingers grazed his skin, she could feel a... something... something tempestuous reveling within him. She'd never felt anything like it before. “I – I don't know. Maybe.... I can try something.” She looked up at Shiro with an unsure expression which only eased when he nodded.

  
  


The princess slid behind Keith with her legs tucked beneath her and carefully moved his head to rest on her lap. Despite his tense frame Keith's body was like a ragdoll – there was no resistance, his hands falling away limply, his vacant unblinking stare fixed beyond the ceiling. She kept her hands gently pressed to his temples and closed her eyes, turning her attention inward to focus on the quintessence between them. At the point where they touched, she felt the invisible force beneath her fingertips, felt it swirl and sway as she called to it, as the marks on her cheeks began to glow. Whereas the energy in her hands was calm, the quintessence she sensed beneath, within Keith, was writhing and chaotic. It was as if his was a ship caught in the midst of a storm and hers was the peaceful sky above the clouds. Allura concentrated, gathering the energy at the surface and sending it forth like a blue sea wave that carefully lapped over the fallen paladin. In its wake his wide eyes drooped then shut; his body ceased its trembling. He grew still save for the softness of his breath.

  
  


Finished, Allura opened her eyes once more, exhaling an exhausted sigh. The altean paladin could only pray that it was finally over – her body was beginning to shake from over-exertion and she doubted she could muster the strength to pilot Blue in another fight for the day. She must have been listing to the side because suddenly there was a sturdy hand on her shoulder, steadying her.

  
  


She turned to face Shiro with bleary eyes, his expression concerned as he helped her remain upright. “Allura, are you ok?”

  
  


The best she could offer was a slow, tired nod and a small smile of gratitude. “Yes, thank you.”

  
  


It did little to assuage him; his expression only turned further grim. “And Keith?” Shiro asked quietly, cautiously as if he was almost afraid to know the answer.

  
  


Allura turned to look back at the younger man, his breathing even and his face peaceful as if he hadn't been violently shaking apart mere dobashes ago. “I think so... Or at least, I believe he's as stable as Romelle.”

  
  


Shiro nodded, only the minimalist of relief gentling the hard lines of his face. “What was happening to him?”

  
  


She considered her words for a moment, idly threading her fingers through the Black Paladin's soft hair as she continued to cradle his head in her lap. “I- I'm not sure. His quintessence, it's unlike anything I've ever experienced. It was out of control, like a beast thrashing against its confines, or – or – like a black hole, sucking in everything around it with no restraint. Like a beacon for energy with no place to put it but no way to let it out. There's... not really a good way to describe it, to be honest.”

  
  


Allura turned back to the former Black Paladin, her heart breaking when she took in his worrying visage. “Oh, Shiro...” She gently clasped his hand on her shoulder, giving it a careful, comforting squeeze. “I'm so sorry, I don't mean to bring you more concern. And I'm sorry I am unable to do more.”

  
  


“It's not your fault, Allura,” Shiro replied, returning the gentle squeeze with his own, “I know you've done everything you could. No one can ask more of you.” He released her hand and instead tentatively reached out to Keith's prone form before dropping his hand back to his side. “What could have done this..? It... it couldn't have been Black...” He looked back to her, uncertain. “...could it?”

  
  


She firmly shook her head, her frown deepening. “No, the Lions are not capable of such a malicious act.”

  
  


“Then what...?”

  
  


Allura's face fell, feeling helpless as she stared down at her fallen friend once more. “I do not know... There is so much about quintessence I have yet to learn.” Then she raised her head resolutely, catching Shiro's gaze with her own, her look severe.

  
  


“But if there's one thing I have learned from my time studying alchemy, it's that something like this does not happen naturally.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of these days I'll stop making excuses for delays in chapters. But, hey, at least this one is 23 pages...? *embarrassed shrug*
> 
> I've actually been sitting on this one for a while. But just as I was about to start on editing the protests in the US began and, well, I figured it was more appropriate to spend my writing time drafting letters to politicians and state judiciary figureheads and writing lengthy posts on my Facebook to try to get some people I know to care about what's been going on. I don't know if it has done any good, but I couldn't do nothing. I also live in Arizona and as you may have seen Covid is out of control here, so that's been something else I've been writing about. Also work has been insane but at least I think I'm over the hump on that! Not trying to be a debbie downer, just want you all to know I haven't given up on this story. ^_^
> 
> Do me a favor and take care of yourselves. These are hard times for a lot of reasons and you deserve to be okay. So don't just wash your hands and wear a mask and social distance; make sure to spend some time doing something you love. Find out what brings you comfort and make sure to build it into your routine. Your mental health is important too! :)
> 
> Stay healthy, stay happy friends. <3
> 
> Come help me support other content creators on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Omnidolor), or to chat about fandom or writing.


End file.
